


You're Not Crazy

by Elsey



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Dinner Party, Impala, Skinwalker, Stag - Freeform, Stag Man, Winston - Freeform, not crazy, not totally human, ongoing fic, that's not animal meat, will's dogs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is plunged head first into the world of monsters and horror when he meets Sam and Dean Winchester on a cold winter night. Now, on top of a cannibalistic psychiatrist, Will has to learn what is reality and what is part of the world that Sam and Dean have shown him. Everything that Will knew has been ripped away from him, and he must find a way to live in this world with this new knowledge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Truth Be Told

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm a little nervous with this whole crossing fandoms thing I'm doing here. Forgive me if Will seems a little out of character; I'm trying not to cross the line between Thomas Harris Will and Bryan Fuller Will in this fic. This is based on a gifset I saw on Tumblr a few months back, but I don't have a clue as to who made it, I only glanced at it before ideas were popping up. Just putting this in these notes, as I have no idea how to give the OP of the gifset credit in the little check box.

The door to the white sided farm house opened with a creak, revealing a pale man in his boxers and undershirt, one hand stifling a yawn. Will Graham stumbled as the fluffy mass of tawny brown barreled past him, making a beeline for his favourite spot in the yard. Will steadied himself, scowling at the animal as he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, wishing he had put on more than just his boots when he came out. He quietly turned back, opening the door again and putting on his jacket, sighing in content when the warm material hit his skin. Turning back to the yard, a loud groan escaped Will’s throat; the dog was gone.

“Winston!” Will whisper-yelled. There was no one around, but Will didn’t need the rest of the dogs waking up and parading out the front door to join their adventurous comrade. With another heavy sigh, Will trudged down his steps and into the snow, untied shoes getting drenched, bare legs taking on a red hue. Will wrapped his coat tighter around himself, moving down the driveway in a hunched fashion, whistling for the dog. “Winston, come back! I don’t have time for this! Winston!” Will was slowly growing angrier at the rescued animal as he worked his way off of the property, reaching the road. He saw the dog’s small paw prints in the snow by the road, leading away down the street. This was the last time Will let Winston out without a leash on. He continued on his way, clapping his hands and whistling loudly, trying to draw the dog back to him.

Will froze in the dead center of the deserted road, a breath of hot air spreading across the back of his neck and a low snort following soon after. He carefully began to walk forwards, convincing himself that he was once again hallucinating; it was two in the morning and he was freezing his balls off, who wouldn’t be going a little crazy. Will began to pick up speed as he called for the dog, desperately trying to ignore the sound of hooves behind him, using all of his brain power to _not_ look behind himself.

“Winston, please!” Will yelled. He carefully peaked behind his shoulder. It was back. The stag, black as night, looked at him with cold, dead eyes, horns seeming to reach up to the sky, form changing from a giant animal to a man, back and forth, back and forth. With a small yelp, Will’s heart missed a beat. He turned around, immediately running down the road, slipping and sliding on the ice. “It’s not real, it’s not real!” The faster he said the words, coming out in heaving gasps, the faster Will could hear the stag running, easily beginning to close the distance. Will tripped, falling face first into the ice, knees skinning on the rough surface. Will curled into a ball, arms covering his head. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.” Again and again Will said the words, trying to force himself to believe it was true, waiting in fear to be impaled by the stag’s horns.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” Will heard from above him.

“It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,” he repeated over and over. Will felt something grasp his arm and he kicked his legs out, fighting against the stag man he knew was trying to take him. “ _You’re not real_! _You are a figment of my imagination; you’re not real_!” Will yelled, opening his eyes to find the stag gone. Before him was a man in his mid-thirties, hand outstretched cautiously, eyes cold as they stared at Will.

“Which way did it go?” the man demanded, gesturing for Will to take his hand. Wincing, Will rolled onto his knees, ripping the already forming scab off as it froze to the ice. He stood shakily, wrapping his jacket closer to his body, studying this man. “And why do I smell a dog?”

“You’re crazy, it’s not real,” Will whispered, ignoring the man’s second question. He put his hand over his face, shielding it from the light. He heard a car door open and close.

“Dean? You good?” he heard a deep voice say.

“Yeah, it’s fine, Sammy,” the man in front of him, evidentially Dean, called back. Will carefully lowered his hand. “I’m not crazy. And neither are you. And I don’t have time for chit chat; which way did it go?” Will’s mouth opened slightly before he closed it.

“Y-you _saw_ it? You saw it. You… you don’t think I’m crazy?” Will asked, astounded.

“Look, buddy-”

“Will.”

“Will, then. We don’t have time for this. Which way did the skinwalker go?” Dean demanded. Will took a few steps back, mind reeling, lips turning blue.

“Skinwalker? The stag man? I- I don’t-” Will gasped, grabbing his head, body feeling heavy.

“Whoa, easy there!” Dean said, grabbing Will’s shoulders to steady him. Will heard an engine die, the lights going out as heavy footsteps approached.

“Dean, we have to go, Cas said-”

“We’ve gotta take care of this guy first, Sam, look at him- the skinwalker must’ve been hunting him for months now.”

“Winston,” Will mumbled, realizing his dog was out there with this creature.

“Who?”

“My dog, Winston, he’s alone with this… this _thing_ out here! I have to find him!” Will said, turning away and nearly falling again. Dean stood him upright, walking him back to the car.

“Shit, Sam, get some kind of tissue or something before this guy bleeds to death,” Dean muttered, opening the back door and getting a shivering Will to sit down. “Just hang in there.” Will was left alone, eyes darting around the car and outside, squinting as he realized he was missing his glasses. He looked out the back window, seeing a trunk up along with two gesturing hands. He heard muffled whispers, too cold to try and decode them. Will closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t crazy. Hannibal hadn’t been manipulating him with _this_ at least. _He wasn’t crazy_. Will almost laughed, but stopped himself, realizing that _he wasn’t crazy, so this thing is real_. With a gulp, Will glanced around frantically, wishing more than anything that he had his gun with him for some sort of protection. Lost in thought, Will swallowed back a scream as he felt something move against his leg. He opened his eyes, nearly popping them out of his skull, hands ready to attack, finding Winston licking his ruined knees.

“Winston,” he gasped, heart pounding heavily. “You stupid dumb ass!” He pulled the dog into a hug before cradling him on his lap, putting the snow covered animal in the seat next to him, hand stroking his soft fur. Will heard the trunk slam and boots moving around.

“Look, Will, Sammy here will patch you up and- why is there a dog in my car?”

“Oh, this is Winston, he, um, found me,” Will said, not stopping the stroke of his hand. He saw the anger in the man’s face, the taller one placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Dean,” the taller one, Sammy, Dean had called him, said, apparently trying to calm him. “It’s just a dog, be cool.”

“I don’t do dogs.”

“We just need to get him home.”

“And then what? He knows, and this thing is obviously hunting him!”

“Hunting me?” Will asked, his tone terrified but his face curious. Dean ran a hand through his hair before dropping it against his leg; Winston’s ears perked at the sound.

“Yeah, hunting you. Sorry, man,” Dean said. Sammy bent down, looking at Will.

“Is it okay if I clean this?” he asked. Will nodded, still in shock.

“I- I work for the FBI, I should call Jack,” Will mumbled. Dean’s head shot towards Will.

“FBI? You’re an agent?” he demanded.

“No, no, a teacher, a consultant. I, uh, I’m not agent,” Will said, relaxing as Dean backed away from the car, Sammy elbowing him in the thigh. Winston panted happily and Dean made a sound of disgust. A shiver ran through Will’s body, his legs freezing. Sam stood, looking at him.

“That should do it. We’ll take you home,” Sammy said softly.

“Thank you, Sammy,” Will mumbled.

“It’s, uh, Sam, actually,” Sam said, Will nodding hastily. He moved his legs inside the car, away from the cold, slamming the door as Dean and Sam sat got in as well. He focused on their whispering as they started the car.

“Why is he taking this so well?” Dean breathed.

“Well, if you were just told you’re not crazy, I think you’d be happy,” Sam hissed back. Dean glanced at Will, who kept his eyes on Winston’s smiling face.

“Something’s not right about him.” The engine roared to life, Dean turning back to face Will, who kept his eyes on the dog. Dean glared slightly at the mutt before refocusing on Will. “So, which way are you?” Will jabbed his thumb out the back window.

“I’m back that way,” he said softly.

“Which house?” Sam asked.

“It’s one of the only ones; white siding,” Will mumbled. Dean whipped the sleek black car around, heading back the way they had come. He eyed Will in the mirror.

“So, how long have you been seeing this thing?” he asked. Will looked into the mirror with the eyes of a man who had seen too much.

“I can’t remember the first time I saw it… It was months ago, maybe a year, I can’t be sure.” Dean nodded.

“Has it ever hurt you?”

“N… no, not… no,” Will finally said, eyebrows pushed together. Sam glanced at Dean and he shrugged.

“Listen, Will, we know this seems crazy, but it is real, and we’ll help you,” Sam said, turning around in his seat and giving Will a warm smile, which he pretended not to see.

“At least your therapist isn’t a cannibal,” he breathed.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” Will replied, turning back to stroking Winston. The remainder of the short drive was quiet, just the sound of Winston breathing and Dean huffing about Winston being in the car, Sam jabbing him in the ribs whenever he said anything and Dean grumbling back. Will paid hardly any attention to them, eyes closed and visualizing every time he saw the stag. He realized the stag was not Hannibal’s design; Hannibal had used the stag, and perhaps that is why Will was seeing this creature as such. He remembered seeing it in Hannibal’s office, in the woods, in his yard; a shiver travelled down his body at the idea that those encounters had not been with a hallucination but with a living, breathing monster. Will chuckled darkly to himself, realizing he would have to rewrite his definition of Hannibal in the future; monster had a whole new meaning to it now.

“What’s so funny?” Dean asked. Will realized the car had stopped moving. They had pulled into his driveway.

“Nothing important,” Will said. He realized very quickly that he was obviously in shock, especially when the next words left his mouth. “Would you like to come in? Perhaps I could, ahem, be of some help? In some way?” Dean and Sam shared a look that seemed like an entire conversation.

“Bitch,” Dean breathed.

“Jerk,” Same murmured back. He looked at Will. “We don’t have anywhere else to go.” Will let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Dean glared at the dog in the backseat as he smiled at the man, making Will slightly annoyed that he seemed to hate Winston without even getting to know the loveable animal.

“You wait here, I’ll just bring the dog in,” Will said, opening his door and hopping out. He instantly regretted it, his bandaged knees screaming at him. Will scooped Winston up into his arms, the dog’s tongue lolling out of his mouth as Will brought him up to the house. He placed the sleepy creature inside, greeted by a chorus of barks, which Will quickly hushed. He trudged back outside, finding Dean passing Sam a backpack as he grabbed a duffle bag. Dean quickly shut the trunk as Will approached, eyeing the man carefully.

“You’re FBI?” he asked.

“Just a consultant,” Will corrected.

“Well, just a consultant, you can’t tell anyone we’re here. Anyone. Got it?” Dean asked. Will nodded.

“No one will know you’re here,” he said quietly, feeling sleep pull at his body. Dean shook his head. Will stuck out his hand. “Will Graham.” Dean took the hand, shaking it once before dropping it.

“Dean Winchester. My brother, Sam.” Sam waved, feeling slightly idiotic. They had already been through an adventure together, and these introductions seemed ridiculous at this point. Will turned back to the house, gesturing for the brothers to follow. Will heard them whispering again and the sound of a slap, but chose to ignore it, opening the screen door and then the wood one, corralling all the dogs back. Sam walked in with a grin on his face, but Dean stiffened when the door closed, a look of horror on his face as Will flicked on the lights.

“What? What is it?” Will asked, kneeling with a wince to stroke all of the animals. Sam bent down too, getting jumped on and licked. The animals moved onto Dean, who kept shooing them away.

“I don’t do dogs!” Dean yelled, trying to move away from the pack. They gave up sniffing him, preferring Sam.

“It’s a little late for that,” Will said, turning and pulling his pants on from beside the couch where he had fallen asleep, putting his jacket on a hook and realizing he only had his undershirt on. He yawned. “I have a cot and a couch; I’ll get some blankets.” Will left the room with Dean hot on his heels, only Winston following them to then linen closet.

“Seriously, why are there so many dogs here?” Dean demanded, getting a blanket thrown at him. Will shrugged.

“Dogs don’t ask questions, they don’t pass judgment. They just… smile and wag their tails,” Will explained.

“I don’t do dogs,” Dean said again.

“You do now,” Will said, taking a blanket for Sam into the living room. They came back to find the nearly six and a half foot tall man sprawled across the floor, a grin on his face and the dogs licked him and snuggled against him. Dean made a noise of disgust.

“Get a room,” Dean muttered, collapsing on the couch. Will threw the other blanket on the cot for Sam, which he quickly realized would be much too small. Will was shorter than Dean and more than half a foot short than Sam, but the tall man would just have to deal with the circumstances for now.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Will murmured, whistling. All of the dogs jumped up, running up the stairs.

“What, you’re just gonna leave us here? What if we rob the house, kill you in your sleep?” Will looked at Dean in a way that Dean knew all too well; the look of a man who had seen some shit, knew some shit, and didn’t give a shit anymore. Dean swallowed, nodding at Will as he walked away. Sam looked from Will to Dean, wondering what that was about. Sam stood, moving to sit on the edge of the cot.

“We are so fucked,” was the last thing Will heard before moving upstairs.


	2. The Dinner Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will awakes to find Dean talking to a mysterious person, but is soon interrupted by more unexpected guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY it's taken me so long to update this. Seriously, I feel terrible! I hope you guys enjoy it, though!

Showered and dressed before dawn, Will Graham had hardly slept the past night, fitful and restless as he laid in bed, mulling over the information he had just been given. It was a lie, nothing they said could have been true. But what reason did they have to lie? Perhaps these two were more of Hannibal’s mind games; Will knew he had no boundaries, and hiring two strangers to convince him the stag man was, in fact, real wouldn’t be anywhere near the worst thing Hannibal had done to him. Will left his bedroom on the second floor, gun at his hip, dogs bouncing by his feet, ready to be let out into the yard. Will didn’t make an attempt at being quiet; he wanted the two, Sam and Dean, to know that he was awake. He wanted them awake as well so that he could ask questions, study them, try to understand what made them tick. It was a strange situation when he had first met them; he had been in shock, half frozen, not knowing what was going on. Inviting them in wasn’t Will’s smartest idea either, but he would rather keep an eye on them than have them report back to Hannibal. Or run off and leave him with unanswered questions.

Will heard voices as he reached the bottom of his stairs, the dogs running to the front door as Will turned into the living room. One voice he recognized as Dean, but the other was unknown to him, sounding low and gravelly. A stranger. A third man, perhaps? Hand twitching to his hip, Will entered the living room, trying to confront Dean and the second voice. Sam, the taller one, was asleep, left half of his body hanging off of the cot as he snored loudly. Dean, on the other hand, was awake and standing, arms crossed, mouth hanging open as he stopped talking mid-sentence. Will walked slowly into the room, hand slowly moving to his gun, forcing himself not to aim at the man. Dean snapped his mouth shut, moving his hands to go in his jacket pockets. Dressed already.

“Who else is here?” Will questioned, voice level and only slightly shaky. Dean reformed his face, eyebrow cocked and a slight smirk on his lips.

“I think you need to get some coffee in your system, bud,” he said, advancing forwards. Will moved back, moving his arms in front of his body.

“I think you need to stop lying to me,” Will retorted. Dean stopped his advance. The two men squared off silently, both calculating their next moves and trying to figure out who the victor would be if a dangerous situation should happen to arise between them. Dean, realizing that something was obviously very wrong with Will, backed down first.

“Listen, Will, you’ve just been thrown into a world of crazy; I don’t think you can handle anymore,” Dean told him, turning around and walking over to his duffle bag, rifling around for something. Will’s hand slowly moved from his belt, but he kept his stance, turning his head when he heard a dog whining. Dean turned around. Will nodded his head towards the door.

“Do you mind?” Dean got the memo, shaking his head as he walked towards Will and the front door. Will opened the heavy wood and then the screen, the dogs flying past him into the yard, Winston cheerily trotting at the back, tongue hanging limply from his mouth. Will rolled his eyes at the fluffy canine. He grabbed his winter coat, swinging it on, eyes never leaving Dean, who was only a few feet behind him. Will exited the house, Dean behind him, keeping his eyes on Winston. While he didn’t trust Dean one bit, he knew that he and his brother had had the opportunity to kill him a hundred times the night before. That, and Will was tried of being afraid lf everyone. He let his guard down. Will took a seat on the steps, Dean sitting beside him. Will moved away from Dean, eyes inspecting every inch of him, noticing the jut of a gun at his hip along with what looked to be two hidden blades. Will shifted himself into a position to either run or pull his gun. He noticed that Dean seemed tense, though he was trying to hide it. Will took a deep breath, letting it out and watching as the puff of heat moved away.

“You have questions,” Dean stated.

“Who were you speaking with? It’s my understanding that your brother is the only other person in the house.”

“I told you, you aren’t ready.”

“And I don’t give a flying fuck,” Will snapped, getting an eyebrow raise from Dean. “Just tell me; was it Hannibal?”

“Hanni-who? Who are you talking about?” Will turned on the freezing steps, his eyes meeting Dean’s, who seemed genuinely confused about the name.

“Was it Hannibal on the phone? It didn’t sound like him, but hell, maybe he’s taking voice lessons. Was it on speaker?”

“Listen, I don’t know any Hannibals! I know some cannibals, though. Get it? They rhyme. Huh?” Dean said, trying to lighten things. Will felt sick, face paling when Dean mentioned cannibals, which Hannibal most certainly was. Oh God it rhymes. “You okay?”

“I’ll be better when I know who you were talking to. Were you on the phone or are you hiding someone in my house?”

“When the time comes, I promise you that I’ll tell you.”

“Who the fuck is hiding in my house?” Will demanded bluntly, standing on the steps and glowering over Dean. Dean stood, shifting his shoulders and moving from the step onto the porch, showing his superior height. Will didn’t flinch. “Who. The fuck. Is hiding in my house?”

“No one.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” “I can’t tell you, you can’t handle it.”

“I can handle more than you think.” Dean’s eyes drifted over Will’s body. He seemed weak and crumpled, but at the same time Dean sensed a dark being inside of the man. Dean opened his mouth to speak once more, but shut it, eyes flashing to the driveway.

“Fuck.”

“What?” A sleek black vehicle pulled in and Will quickly turned to Dean, practically throwing him into the door. Dean stumbled into the doorway, jolting Sam awake, who fell ungraciously from the cot and onto the floor, jumping up and pulling his hair out of his face.

“I’m up,” he yawned, hands quickly finding a pair of pants.

“Get your stuff and go into the basement; it’s just off of the kitchen. Hurry! And don’t make a sound!” Will hissed, turning back to the door as he heard Dean grab a bag. Will swung the front door open, closing it quickly when he saw Jack and Hannibal step out of the SUV.

“Morning, Will,” Jack said, eyeing the Impala in the driveway.

“I would hardly call it morning,” Will replied, stepping into the yard, dogs barking away.

“I knew you’d be up.”

“Anything I can help you with?” Will and Jack were now face to face, Hannibal in the background admiring the car and fending himself off from the overly excited animals.

“Yes, actually,” Hannibal said. “There seems to be an… interesting murder.”

“Interesting how?”

“More mutilations,” Jack said.

“What kind?”

“You have to see it to believe it,” Jack muttered.

“And I take it you’ve seen it, which is why you’re _here_.”

“We need you, Will,” Jack told him. He looked at the car. “Unless we’re interrupting something.”

“Just holding onto it for… a friend,” Will said, hand gesturing towards the car. Jack nodded slowly.

“I wasn’t aware you had friends.”

“I wasn’t aware that was any of your business.”

“Is there someone inside, Will?” Hannibal asked, feet crunching under the hardened snow as he moved forwards.

“No.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Jack asked. Will’s eyes snapped from Hannibal’s face to Jack’s.

“It wouldn’t be anything new, would it?” he replied coldly. Jack stiffened.

“Can you help with the murder?”

“Not today.”

“Will-” Hannibal began.

“Not today,” Will repeated, eyes burning into Hannibal’s. They stared at each other for a moment before Hannibal raised his hands, backing away again.

“When can I contact you?” Jack questioned, taking a small step back from Will as well.

“Give me two days.”

“Will, this can’t wait two days. We have to get the body out.” Will took a deep breath, mind flashing back to the stag on the road. He realized he had closed his eyes, opening them once more, cold and blank as he looked at Jack.

“I said two days.” Jack took the hint.

“I’ll call you,” was all he said as he turned, walking past Hannibal and to the car. Hannibal was facing the front window of Will’s house. Will turned and saw the curtain flutter. A smirk crossed Hannibal’s face.

“Tell your guests they are welcome to my home for dinner,” he said, accent twisting and turning the words in his mouth. Will’s own lips were set in a firm line as he whistled, walking up to his house with his pack of dogs on his heels. He heard the car start and pull out, tense shoulders finally drooping as he stood on the porch, weight supported by the railing, the black car disappearing behind the curve. Will put a hand on his forehead, trying to steady his breathing. He jumped, a hand on his shoulder surprising him, his own fingers instantly curling into a fist as he turned, sinking the jumble of bones into the gut of whoever was behind him.

“Shit!” Will yelled, seeing Sam’s eyes bug out as he clutched his stomach.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, slowly standing.

“Fuck, sorry, instinct,” Will said, moving away from the man that was a few inches off of being a foot taller than him. He wrung his hands nervously as Sam stood, Dean opening the front door and looking disgustedly at the dogs. His eyes went to Sam, who still had one hand on his gut. Sam waved his brother off.

“My fault. Will, are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Sam told him, stepping towards Will, who moved away from him, arms wrapping around himself. Sam moved back again. Dean stayed at the door.

“I’m fine. Just freezing,” he said, moving to go inside the house, shoving past Dean and letting the dogs in. The sun had risen by this point, light filtering in through the windows. Will headed to the kitchen, the dogs barking excitedly as he scooped food into the many bowls on the floor. Sam and Dean entered the kitchen warily, taking seats at Will’s table. Dean fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers until Will stood, the dogs making plenty of noise while they chowed down.

“You must have questions,” Sam began.

“Of course he does!” Dean snapped. Sam gave him a very annoyed look. “Don’t you bitchface number twelve me!”

“Of fuck off! Will, can we do anything for you?” Sam asked as Will went to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs.

“Eggs?” Will asked, dazed as he pulled the carton out and set it on the counter. Dean gave Sam a sideways glance.

“Uh, sure, thanks,” Dean said, receiving a swat from his brother. He raised his arms in the air, exasperated.

“We’re fine, Will, thanks,” Sam said. Will nodded, pulling out a pan and cracking eight eggs into it. He stirred them mindlessly. Sam cleared his throat before shifting uncomfortably. “You must have questions.”

“Of course I have questions,” Will muttered. “But it’s six in the morning and I’m starving.” Dean nodded in agreement, shooting a look at Sam. They sat and stood in silence, the only sound the sizzling of the eggs on the pan. They were ready very quickly, and Will put them onto three plates, setting two in front of Sam and Dean, taking a third for himself and sitting down.

“Thanks, man,” Dean said, eating a mouthful. Sam stared awkwardly at his as Will took a bite himself, mind elsewhere, face pale at what Hannibal had said.

“What the fuck is a Skinwalker?” Will blurted out. Dean stopped eating for a moment, looking at Sam and then Will.

“A Skinwalker is a human that can take the form of an animal,” Sam told him carefully.

“Looks like you’ve got a powerful one too,” Dean chimed in. Will shuddered.

“What does it want with me?”

“We don’t know. As far as we can tell, it seems to be being controlled by someone, or something.” Will arched an eyebrow, ignoring his eggs.

“Can a human control it?”

“With the right spell, yeah, probably,” Dean said between bites.

“Mother fucker,” Will hissed.

“What?” Sam asked, leaning towards the now shaking man.

“Hannibal,” he muttered.

“Again with that name,” Dean muttered back. Will shot him an icy glare.

“Hannibal is my… psychiatrist. He’s… well, he framed me for murder. And, fuck it, he’s a cannibal too. I’m sure you’ve seen worse shit out there,” Will grumbled, standing to pace and run his hands through his hair. Dean was glad he had just finished his eggs, as he wouldn’t want to eat anymore knowing that Will Graham associated with cannibals.

“I’m sorry, he’s a _what_?” Sam demanded.

“A cannibal. I swear to Christ I didn’t know. No one believes me,” Will told them bitterly. Dean was shaking his head.

“Is he a witch?” Dean questioned.

“Witch? Witches are real?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but damn near everything is real,” Sam said, standing as well and patting Winston on the head. Will swallowed loudly.

“Vampires?” A nod. “Werewolves? Ghosts? Angels? Demons?” All nods. Will gripped the counter tightly, breathing suddenly labored.

“Easy, man,” Dean said, the final one to stand, hands ready in case Will passed out. He wouldn’t be the first to.

“Well this is just peachy,” Will mumbled, a hand placed on his temple.

“I know. It’s a lot.”

“What do I do now?” Will asked. “Now that I know all of this. What am I supposed to do?” Dean gave Sam a glance.

“Live,” Dean told Will, shrugging.

“Live. Easy enough, right?” Will asked nervously. Sam and Dean shared another glance while Will took a steadying breath.

“Yeah,” Sam said, forcing a smile. “Easy enough.”


	3. Meet Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds out exactly what an Angel of the Lord is capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, short chapter. Sorry about that, not even two thousand words. I'll make up for it in the next one, promise!

The sound of crunching echoed around the three men as they advanced into the forest. Sam and Dean were both armed with guns and silver knives, while Will had a shotgun in the crook of his arm. He had securely locked all of the dogs away and was now wandering around the woods with two strangers, hunting what was an imaginary creature all of twelve hours ago.

“Explain to me again what a Skinwalker is,” Will said. Dean sighed, but Sam readily turned to the man, stopping them in the forest, breath misting around them.

“A Skinwalker can change its form into an animal. As far as we knew, it was only dogs, but this one is obviously proving to be different,” Sam said calmly. Dean had resorted to pacing impatiently.

“How does it… I’ve seen… it as a man, as well. Black. With antlers,” Will mumbled quietly. Sam shot a glance at Dean, who shrugged.

“It might be an Alpha,” Dean suggested.

“A what?”

“An Alpha, a first of the kind. He could be blending forms.”

“But why is it so invested in him?” Dean asked.

“I’m still guessing a witch,” Sam offered. Will’s eyes snapped up.

“I’m telling you, it has to be Hannibal,” Will insisted. Sam shifted from foot to foot.

“Have you seen it around him?”

“Constantly,” Will said through gritted teeth, eyes flashing dangerously. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll be damned. Maybe the rhyming guy is a witch,” he commented. Sam gave him Bitch Face number seven. He looked back to see Will struggling, his hands shaking and eyes lost. Sam placed hand on his shoulder and Will jumped, immediately grabbing the shotgun.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Sam said reassuringly.

“Yeah, sure it is,” Will muttered, eyes sweeping the forest.

“We should head back; it most likely won’t attack with all three of us here in broad daylight,” Dean called, having marched up a small hill and was looking around the property.

“Attack us? What was this?” Will demanded. Sam lowered his eyes.

“We need a way to lure it out, Will, and it’s connected to you somehow,” Sam told him. Will shook his head, shoving past Sam and moving away from the small clearing they had been in, greeted by the familiar trees that he knew so well.

It all happened very quickly.

Will found himself flying, breath knocked out of his lungs, shotgun thrown away and glasses flying. His eyes were calm and his face expressionless. A shattering ring ran through the air as his head collided with a large oak tree, the base sturdy and strong as Will’s skull cracked against it. Vision blurry, Will crumpled, arms limp and body numb as snow fell from the sleeping branches, coating him in a heavy blanket of white. Dazed, Will tried to sit up, finding that he was glued to the ground. His eyes rolled in their sockets, finding a warm patch of red leading from the base of his neck to the oak tree. With a gasp, Will’s ears opened, gunfire shooting above him and a loud screeching all around. A moan bubbled from his lips as he felt hard, heavy hooves trample his body, quickly curling into himself and trying to roll away, desperately swinging his tingling arms to propel himself from this nightmare. The stag, black as night, stood above him, breath snorting from its nostrils and loud noises escaping its open mouth. The antlers loomed over Will as the creature pounded his body with its dark hooves, crushing him again and again. Another gunshot sounded and Will saw the creature’s neck ark, a murderous sound escaping its lungs, its body shifting and turning, black smoke rising from its eyes as it went from stag to half man and back again, agony ripping from it as it tore away, leaving a trail of black in the snow. Will’s head was growing heavy. His eyes weighed more than the earth and his fingers were numb, covered in his own red along with the black of the stag.

The world went dark.

………..

Something was licking Will Graham’s hand. He sat up with a jolt, slowly settling himself against the headboard in his bedroom. Will sighed, but it turned into a hiss as he leaned his head against the board, a large cut stinging from the contact. Will moved his free hand to grab the back of his head. He jumped when he heard a yelp, the licking discontinuing. Slowly, Will forced himself to look down.

Winston was on the ground, small body surrounded by a charred mix of black and red.

“ _No_ ,” Will whispered hoarsely, finding his voice to be stuck in his throat. The black shifted and swirled under the dead animal, pulling, dragging him into the floor, the dog’s dead eyes pleading with Will as they were covered in the black, the red, the char. Will watched in horror, unable to stop the small, panicked sounds that escaped him. His eyes wandered, finding all of his dogs being eaten by the mass, their bodies disappearing below the floorboards with Winston’s. Will couldn’t move, couldn’t help, couldn’t _save_ them, couldn’t-

“Will! Will, wake up! Will!” he heard, snapping back to reality. He opened his gluey eyes to find himself wrapped in someone’s arms. Where was he? “Thank God!” Will heard, the voice booming in his ears. He shrunk back from the noise with a choked sound. “You’re fine, man, just fine.” Dean lifted Will’s unresponsive body from the snow, finding red leaking from the base of his skull. “Fuck!” Dean quickly sat down, carefully leaning a barely conscious Will against the tree. He took off his jacket, then his shirt, taking the material and wrapping it around Will’s head. Chest bare, Dean wrapped Will back into his arms, standing with a groan and trudging away from the bloody mess. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“Wha…” Will began, but faltered, cut off by an unknown wail as his head pulsed, feeling a thousand bees stinging his and a warm amber flowing down his back.

“Cas! Cas!” Dean was screaming, legs moving furiously as he ran through the woods. Will was disorientated, confused. Who was this Cas woman? Why was Dean calling her? What had happened? Why did Will’s head feel ready to explode? Will soon felt the ground stop bouncing below him as Dean discontinued his frantic running.

“Alana…” Will whispered, eyes searching the bright, flashing lights for her face, for anything familiar. A great rushing sound filled Will’s ears, screaming following, a dark shadow crossing the light, black wings beating around him. “NO!” he screamed, finding strength once more and managing to roll out of Dean’s embrace, surprising the man enough to drop him. Eyes wide, Will only saw the image of a dark shadow, wings stretched about. A great white light spilled from the center of the creature as it advanced, Will scrambling away quickly, ignoring the severe pain coming from the back of his head. He collapsed, feeling the sticky crimson spill across his body once more as his side got caught on a branch, numb flesh ripped away as Will stared, dazed, light now glowing red. When he looked back up, there was a flash of white and soon all colour, a hand barely touching his face, and a quick blackness.

Will took a gasping breath, coughing and sputtering as he found himself collapsing once more, freezing hands in the snow and knees bent below him. He looked up to see Dean, the sun glaring off of the snow behind him. His face was wrenched in concern. Will slid a hand to his head, pulling off the t shirt that was there, finding it to be drenched in blood. Will’s eyes were wide as he looked down, seeing a trail of the substance dripping away from his. Dean’s bare torso was smeared in it as well. Will noticed the ragged tear in his jacket and shirt and found there to be a sharp, red stick poking out of the ground. Dean stood, offering a hand to Will. Will took his silently, guilt settling in his stomach as he saw a shiver rip down Dean’s body. Will looked away, heart jumping into his throat when he saw a man staring at him. The man was in a tan overcoat, no, a trench coat, a blue tie on backwards. He was lean and tall, with piercing blue eyes and just-had-sex hair. Will quickly scrambled away from him, mind flashing back to his crazed stupor, the winged man replaying in his mind over and over.

“Whoa, whoa. Settle down. This is Cas. He’s a friend,” Dean shared reassuringly. Will tensed nonetheless.

“Let’s go,” he grumbled, slowly standing as Dean did the same, feeling the back of his head. It was healed, as was his side. Will looked at his hands in confusion, eyes going from Dean to Castiel.

“I know… it’s a lot,” Dean began.

“How?” Will gasped.

“I am an Angel of the Lord,” came a deep, gravelly voice. Will’s head shot up, eyes connecting with the dark haired man’s. Shaking, he glanced at Dean, who was shivering. The Angel of the Lord stepped forwards and Will shrunk back, taking a few steps away. The man raised his hands, slowly taking his jacket off and tossing it to Dean, who caught it and put it on with an acknowledging nod. Castiel focused on Will. “I healed your, Will Graham, show some gratitude.”

“Angels aren’t real,” Will insisted, head reeling.

“Neither were Skinwalkers yesterday,” Dean pointed out, glancing around them. Will noticed a large person was missing.

“Your brother?” Will questioned, keeping his eyes on the crazy haired being across from him.

“He took off. He’ll be back. We need to go,” Dean insisted, moving away from the forest. Cas followed, but Will remained where he was, dumbfounded. Sighing angrily, Dean approached, trying to get Will to move forwards. Will’s eyes staring blankly, he didn’t see Cas approach, too late to stop him when he touched both Will and Dean’s shoulders, the three men finding themselves back in Will’s living room, dogs barking loudly. Will’s mouth was an ‘O’ of horror as he fell, crashing against a table and using his legs to propel himself out of the room, grabbing Buster as he did and dragging the mutt with him, the other dogs smart enough to run.

“Cas!” Dean yelled angrily.

“We needed to move this along!” the dark haired man insisted. Will’s mind was reeling.

“What the fuck just happened?” he demanded.

“I transported you back into your home,” Castiel answered gruffly. Will made breathless, unnamable sounds as his hands floundered in the air. Dean shook his head.

“I know,” he mumbled sympathetically.

“Gather your things. We must leave,” Castiel said, turning to leave. Will stood.

“Leave?” he asked. “What do you mean, leave?” Cas turned around.

“It is no longer safe here. We need to go. Hurry.”


	4. Accepting the Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving his home for safety, Will finds himself agreeing to yet another dinner with his psychiatrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who read and Kudos and comment! You guys keep me going!
> 
> EDIT** I realized I fucked up during a convo, ignore my mistakes due to lack of sleep XD

The minute Will found himself in a crappy motel, he collapsed on the floor, retching and unable to gather his bearings. Dean was yelling at the ceiling, and they were alone, Will groaning and Dean shaking his head in disappointment.

“Angels, man,” he muttered, taking a seat on the bed and running his hands through his hair. He glanced at Will, who was shaking on the floor, sitting against the bed with his eyes closed. “You’ll be fine. The first few times can be frustrating, and I know it sucks. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.” He turned away from Will, looking at the ceiling again. “Damn it, Cas, get back here!” Will slowly opened his eyes, the room gradually discontinuing its spinning.

“How am I here? Where are we? What about my dogs? Dean, take me back,” Will seethed, standing unsteadily. Dean grabbed his arm to level his out, sitting him on the bed.

“I can’t answer those until Cas is back,” Dean muttered, feeling frustrated. Will held his head in his hands, feeling useless in his state of confusion.

“When will he-” Will stopped, colour draining from his face as Castiel reappeared, dropping a sasquatch of a man on the ground, gently putting his hands over a stab wound in the abdomen, a bright blue light being emitted as he ran his hands over the blood soaked patch.

“Sammy! Cas, what the fuck happened!?” Dean demanded, taking his younger brother’s head in his lap, trying to wake the unconscious man up.

“He needs to sleep,” Castiel told them, voice rough and crackled. Will stared between them. He could barely believe Skinwalkers, and now angels? What kind of acid induced dream was this? He sat on the bed with lips pressed together. He jumped when Castiel appeared beside him, grabbing his arm and closing his eyes in concentration. Will felt a horrifying burning, something ripping into his chest, seizing his heart and embedding in his ribs. Will gritted his teeth, grasping the trench coat while low whimpers flicked through his teeth, flames licking his innards.

“H-help,” he gasped, collapsing on the bed with his arms gripping his chest, Castiel standing above him and quickly putting small black bags in Will’s pockets. Will shied away from the touch, quaking in fear, eyes wide as the burning slowly diminished. Will pulled his shirt up with a groan, seeing his ribcage to be littered with black and blue bruises. “What did you do to me?”

“Protection,” was all Castiel said. Will stared incredulously at the man.

“Cas,” Dean called, now standing with Sam’s still unconscious body leaning on his own. Dean wouldn’t be able to support the massive being for much longer. Castiel swiftly crossed the small room, taking Sam effortlessly into his arms and gingerly placing him on one of the beds.

“I don’t understand,” Will whispered, eyes distant as he sat with his hands clasped in his lap.

“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord. You are to be protected at all costs, Will Graham,” Castiel said, edging closer to the man. Will’s eyes were wild as he stared up at the man.

“Protected? Why?” he demanded.

“The witch. He wants you dead, and that is never a good thing, especially when mind tricks are involved. We have determined that you-”

“ _Cas_!” Dean shouted. Castiel’s mouth formed a thin line. Dean glared furiously at him from Sam’s bed. “Enough.” Will felt anger bubbling. He stood, ignoring the massive amount of pain in his torso and head.

“Tell me. Now,” he growled, fists clenched at his side. Castiel looked from Dean, who was shaking his head, to Will, who was slowly growing angrier and angrier.

“Dean is more accustomed to human emotions than I. I have barely spent two years on this earth, and I believe Dean is more knowledgeable in what should be revealed to you,” Castiel stated. Will threw himself at the angel, punching him again and again until his knuckles bled. Castiel didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“Hey! _Hey_!” Dean yelled, standing and pulling Will off of the angel. “Let it go! You’re only hurting yourself!” Will turned, blindly connecting a fist with Dean’s nose, which the other grabbed and swiftly pinned behind Will’s back, holding both of his struggling arms. “Will! Calm down! Will!” Castiel, tired of the nonsense, walked forwards and placed two fingers on Will’s forehead.

-

“Fuck, Cas, you didn’t have to knock him out!” Dean insisted, struggling with setting the full weight of Will down on the bed.

“It was getting out of hand. This man needs to control his emotions.” Dean snorted.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. Angel of the Lord. This guy just got a huge hit, Cas, he isn’t going to be okay maybe ever,” Dean said, looking sadly at Will’s crumpled, yet peaceful figure. Dean sighed, feeling terrible about including yet another life into this fucked up situation he and Sammy lived in. Dean realized he and Castiel were alone and groaned inwardly. He loved the guy, but he really sucked at small talk.

“Dean, why are we investing our time here? We should be searching for a way to-”

“I know, I know, stop the apocalypse, trust me, I know. But you know as well as I do that this witch is said to be a direct link to Lucifer's right hand.”

"Perhaps one of them, yes."

“I thought there was just one?”

“No, Dean, there are a few.”

“Do you have names?”

“No.”

“Well what do you want us to do now, then?”

“Interrogate the witch.”

“Who also happens to be a cannibal. Awesome. Just fan-fucking-tastic,” Dean grumbled.

“Are you up to it, Dean?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There may need to be… excessive force used,” Castiel said slowly. Dean caught on pretty quickly.

“We’ll deal with it,” he said in a low monotone. Castiel eyed him warily.

“I don’t want to push you. Or Sam.”

“We can take care of ourselves. Always have, always will.”

………..

“Will, this is unexpected,” Hannibal said, opening the door to his office with a flourish, allowing Will to step inside and approach the chairs they often sat in. Will, tense as always, remained standing, one hand resting on the back of the seat. Hannibal closed the door and sat opposite of him, a curious gleam in his eyes. Will shuffled his feet slightly, regaining his composure when Hannibal looked towards the windows for a moment.

“I would like to take you up on your offer for a dinner,” Will said, throat feeling tight as he watched Hannibal. Hannibal the cannibal. Hannibal the cannibal that was a witch. Who wanted to kill him. With a Skinwalker. Will felt the panic slowly rising up his spine and pushed it down, telling himself this was necessary, this would get Hannibal out of his life, this would save more people than he could imagine. Hannibal cocked an eyebrow.

“Just you?” he asked, sending a shiver down Will’s spine. He had always been suspicious, yet curious, but now, all traces of it were gone and he had blind fear set deep inside of him.

“My company. Cousins, uh, Sean and Dan,” Will said, pulling two names out from his head, remembering that the two were convicted felons, and having Hannibal knowing their first names may not be the best choice. He had access to the FBI records, after all, and how many brothers are there named Sam and Dean in the world anyways?

“I was unaware you had family,” Hannibal commented.

“My distant family.”

“The owners of that black car.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you not disclose this information earlier?”

“It was not mine to share.”

“I understand.” There was an awkward silence as Hannibal studied Will. Will struggled to keep the façade up, knowing that the Hunters and the angel were just a block away if something were to happen. Will was hoping and, yes, praying that Hannibal wouldn’t sense the Hex Bags Castiel had given him as protection.

“I should be going. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Lecter.” Will began to walk forwards when Hannibal put his arm out, grabbing Will’s wrist and stopping him before he could leave. Will tensed. Was Hannibal… sniffing him? Again, Will might add. Hannibal released him.

“Tell your… cousins that I am expecting them. See you at seven,” was all he said as Will walked briskly to the door, closing it and exiting the building, quickly making his way down the street, keeping his eyes away from the windows of the house and practically jogging to where the Impala was parked. Will flung the back door open, jumping in and finding himself squeezed in next to Castiel with Sam beside him, an older man in front of the vehicle where Sam usually sat.

“Who…?” Will asked, gesturing to the man with a shaking hand.

“Will Graham, Bobby Singer,” Dean said, tossing a hand between the two. In the week that the Winchesters and angel had come into Will’s life, he had stopped caring who they brought with them. There had been a strange couple of Hunters, but Will had basically ignored them. Truth be told, all Will cared about was getting this put behind him so he could go home with his dogs once more, maybe Alana too, and continue his work with the FBI. Was it really so hard to ask?

“Will,” was all Bobby grunted out, not bothering to turn around. Castiel looked very uncomfortable trapped between Will and Sam, failing miserably at hiding his disappointment. Will was still shaking like a leaf.

“When’s dinner?” Sam asked, leaning over the blue eyed angel to look at Will.

“Tonight. Seven. We are so fucked,” Will all but moaned.

“Why?” Dean asked icily, starting up the car and pulling out of their parking spot.

“He knows. He didn’t say he knows, but I can tell. He told me to tell you that he’s expecting you. It sounded very… sinister. Alarm bells in my head,” Will muttered, staring out the window as they drove. He heard Dean swear under his breath.

“Did you give anything else away?” Dean asked. Will could practically feel the man rolling his eyes.

“I did exactly as you asked me,” Will stated incredulously, not believing that Dean was accusing him of fucking up the ‘mission’. “I’ve been doing this all of a week, excuse me if I haven’t perfected my technique!”

“You work for the fucking FBI!”

“As a consultant!”

“Both of you idjits knock it off before I make you! Shut your traps until we get back to wherever we’re going!” Bobby yelled from the front. Will stared at the man, torn between making another statement and just giving up, doing as he said.

“How the fuck did you get here?” Will asked, eyes studying the back of Bobby’s head. The man scratched at his hat.

“Cas picked me up, _boy_ , not that I need to tell your chicken ass jackshit. Now shut up before I come back there and make you.” Will, silently brooding, did as Bobby said. Castiel looked from Will to Bobby as the conversation ended, eventually settling his eyes on Dean. Will observed the small glances Dean gave Castiel, though he tried his best to ignore them, having seen them only a handful of times before. These seemed to be the glances of two people who were expecting the end, who were trying not to say a final goodbye. What hadn’t the Winchesters told him?

“Will? Will, you, uh, okay?” Sam asked, reaching his hand across Castiel to touch Will’s jacket. Will snapped back to reality.

“Fine. What were you saying?”

“We, Cas and I, were wondering if you could give us a quick description of these… dinners that occur,” Sam replied, looking back and forth from Castiel to Will.

“Don’t eat any meat unless you absolutely have to. If doesn’t come directly off of an animal, like a fully cooked bird or pig, it’s human,” Will told them. He heard Dean make a gagging sound. Sam shot him a look from the back seat. “We eat in the dining room, and are usually given a few free moments before he comes in. I can try to… distract him, I suppose, if you want to put a trap in.”

“How long?” Dean asked.

“Probably two to ten minutes, depending. Could be thirty seconds for all I know.”

“Great,” Dean muttered. “Just great.”

“We’ve worked with less time,” Sam reminded him.

“Not on something like this we haven’t.”

………..

“You be careful. And be sure to protect the Neph- protect him,” Castiel said, quickly correcting himself before Will could question it. He and Bobby were waiting in the car, only intervening if they got a phone call, Castiel ready to transport them into the house at any time. Will eyed Castiel before turning to Sam and Dean, who had put their suits on.

“Are you ready?” Will asked, voice low, pushing his wild mop of curls out of his face as he spoke, eyes flicking from Dean’s chest to his face.

“Born ready, kid,” Dean grumbled, carefully adjusting the gun in his pants and double checking the stake he had, along with the demon knife.

“I’m older than you,” Will said under his breath.

“Not when you tack on the forty years my soul has,” Dean reminded him, walking towards the front door. Will gave Sam a confused look, who shook his head in a way that said ‘just forget it’.

“Let’s do this,” Sam said, clapping Will on the back as they walked up to the door. Dean pressed a finger into the bell. Light washed over the three of them as Hannibal opened the front door, revealing himself without a jacket, sleeves pushed up and blood on his apron.

“Please, do come in.”


	5. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are unexpected guests at Hannibal's dinner party, throwing off all of the plans Sam, Dean, Will, Cas and Bobby had in place. Will discovers something about himself he had never wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize this is leaning more into the SPN world, and I apologize to the Hannibal readers. To be brutally honest, I love the Thomas Harris series much more than SPN, but I find it much more difficult to write as his characters than those from SPN, which is why this is my first crossover or Hannibal fic in general. It's difficult for me to write these charries when there are literally three different options to write as. Anyways, I'm rambling. 
> 
> Basically, this will be leaning strongly into the SPN world, with mainly only the characters from Hannibal, the location of Baltimore and, of course, the cannibalism, which I promise there will be a nice, long chapter about soon. Gore galore. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading this, and I hope you fannibals aren't too disappointed with my world hopping here!
> 
> PS. How are any of us even ALIVE at this point, with these two absolutely brutal finales all in one week???
> 
> PPS. The timezone is around s1 finale, but without crazy Will, instead chill Will, and nearing the s5 finale, with the apocalypse approaching, both of these times melded into around 2010.
> 
> I'll shut up now.

As the three of them stepped into the house, all Will could think to do was breathe. Hannibal, being ever courteous, was shaking hands with both Sam and Dean. Will had nearly forgotten their agreed upon names of Sean and Dan, biting his tongue when he nearly called out ‘Sam’ instead of ‘Sean’ upon seeing Sam trip over his own foot. On purpose, Will assumed, as he grabbed his brother, gingerly placing a wad of paper into his pocket.

“You must watch your step; I would not wish to see you injured,” Hannibal said, earning a soft snort from Dean. Hannibal turned to him with a cocked eyebrow. “Is something comical?” Dean shook his head.

“’Course not. Just laughing at what a klutz Sean here is,” Dean said, shooting a wink to Hannibal, Will’s heart seizing for a brief moment. He turned his head when someone moved in one of the other rooms.

“Allow me to transfer you into the dining area. Dinner is nearly prepared, and you can make yourselves comfortable,” Hannibal said, rolling his sleeves down as he walked from his front hallway into the dining room, Sam and Dean making small talk while Will did his best to control his breathing. Murderous serial killers? Sure. A human mural? Sure. A cannibalistic witch that was controlling a supposedly mythological creature to make Will feel as if he was going crazy? How about fuck no. Will began to feel hot, feel as if he would blow the mission. He soon found Sam laying a gentle hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. When they entered the dining room, it took all of Will’s self-control to not groan aloud. Alana and Jack were sitting at the table, standing when the four men entered. Jack nodded his greeting to Will as Alana walked forwards, quickly gripping Sam’s hand and then Dean’s. Dean elbowed Will in the side, Will shooting him a dirty look.

“Jack, Alana, my cousins, Dan and Sean White,” Will said, gesturing to the Winchesters. “Dan, Sean, my coworkers and friends, Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford.” Jack moved forward grudgingly, shaking their hands as well. Hannibal put a hand on Will’s shoulder, pretending not to notice the flinch Will issued, a smile on his lips.

“I’ll be taking our dinner out of the oven. Excuse me a moment,” Hannibal said, exiting the room from a small door that lead to the kitchen. Dean was immediately speaking with Alana. Jack and Sam nodded to each other, but Jack took his seat, seeming distant as Sam edged closer to Will.

“Abort, Will. Not tonight,” Sam breathed from above Will’s head. Will let out a sharp nod, which Dean saw, making quick eye contact with his brother before Dean was back to grinning at the female. Will saw Sam click a few buttons on his phone in his pocket. It rang a few seconds later. Sam quickly pulled it out, smiling apologetically at the group of people. “Excuse me; work.” Everyone else nodded as Sam left the room, phone to his ear. Will only heard a small bit of the conversation as Sam left, almost definitely speaking with either Castiel or Bobby. “Just about to sit down to dinner with my cousin and a few of his friends! Yes, the vacation’s going great! Haha, abort indeed! Maybe some other night, Bob, that would be fine!” Sam said a few more words, but Will was now being brought into a conversation with Dean and Alana. Alana seemed… off. As if she knew this was all a load of bullshit, but she was going along with it.

“Will, I was never informed of your… handsome cousins,” Alana said, earning a wink from Dean as she smiled softly.

“Willy here doesn’t speak of us often. Finds us embarrassing,” Dean said, what Will had learned to be his ‘we fucked up’ grin on his face.

“It never really came up,” Will said lowly. Alana placed a hand on his arm, and he snapped his head towards her, earning a look from Dean.

“Easy there, ‘cous,” Dean grumbled.

“Tell me, Dean; why have you stayed away all this time?” Alana asked.

“Well Sammy and I have been busy with our jobs lately, and, sadly, cousin Will here hasn’t been at the front of our thoughts. When our dad died, Will was the only family we had left, so we got in touch,” Dean said shortly. Alana nodded.

“I’m sorry about your father. What happened?” Alana asked. Dean tensed slightly. Will could tell that she was prying, obviously, trying to pick out the lies. It was a good thing the Winchesters were professional liars.

“Nothing good,” Dean answered tersely, earning the small group an awkward silence until Sam reentered the room. He nodded at his brother, sitting down just across from Jack, striking up some kind of conversation. Will was stuck with Alana and Dean, who had apparently moved past the parent blunder. Will was now slightly curious as to what had actually happened to Sam and Dean’s father, but that was a question for later.

“Tell me, Alana,” Dean began, “do you have anyone in your life?”

“No,” she answered immediately. Will, though it was ridiculous, couldn’t help but feel slightly offended over that. He shook it off, realizing how stupid he was in thinking that, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. “What about you?” Before Dean could answer, Hannibal was sweeping into the room, jacket now on and apron removed, a small cart before him. The three that were still standing sat down, Hannibal serving a strange mixture of things. Will swallowed hard when he saw that the meat was most definitely not coming off of any kind of animal, but prepared into a kind of roast.

“I don’t mean to be, uh, a bad dinner guest, but I’m, uh, a vegetarian,” Sam said quietly. Will felt relief rush through him that Sam would not have to endure what he was about to. He briefly thought back to never having seen Sam actually eat meat in the short week they had been together now.

“Of course, it is of no problem. The roast is the only thing with meat, help yourself to everything else,” Hannibal said graciously. Dean was shooting his brother looks of hatred as he had the roast placed before him. Jack still seemed distant, even though he had been in conversation with Sam recently. Will watched him carefully as he took a bite into his dinner.

“This is exquisite, as always, Hannibal,” Jack said approvingly.

“Ah, you are too kind, Jack.”

“No, this really is amazing,” Alana chimed in. Will saw Dean take a deep breath before stabbing his fork into the meat and cutting it up. He swallowed without chewing, suppressing a shudder. Hannibal had his eyes on Will, luckily, who was avoiding the meat for the time being, though he knew to keep his cover, or whatever was left of it, he would need to finish the meal entirely.

“Tell me, Sam,” Hannibal began, Sam lifting his head like a dog who had just been called. “What made you decide to become a vegetarian?” Dean looked curiously at Sam himself, as if he had never gotten a straight answer himself.

“Well,” Sam said, clearing his throat and putting down his utensils. “When Dean and I were young, our dad took us around from job to job. He, uh, he never settled after our, uh, mother passed, and we were dragged along. We had takeout nearly every night. Eventually, I just got sick of grease and burgers. Vegetables and fruit seem so much simpler and healthier.” Sam shrugged. Will felt some jealousy growing inside of him at how easily Sam was fitting in, with a cannibalistic witch just diagonal from him. How the hell was the kid keeping his cool? Dean snorted from beside his brother.

“I was raised the same way, and you don’t see me eating rabbit food.”

“Organic, De- Dan,” Sam said, stopping his eye roll halfway through when he nearly said his brother’s actual name.

“I’m sorry to hear of your mother,” Jack said sympathetically.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said, seeming slightly more uncomfortable. The only noise at the table soon was utensils and chewing. Will felt himself pale when he came to the end of the line; the meat. Dean had eaten his first and looked sick, trying to wash down the taste with wine and whatever other food he was provided with.

“Hannibal, tell me,” Dean said, voice surprisingly steady. “What made you decide to become a therapist?” Hannibal chewed thoughtfully, swallowing and wiping his mouth with his napkin, tentatively placing his utensils on his plate.

“I am unsure how much Will had told you about me,” Hannibal began, “but I used to be a medical doctor. It was only after the loss of my first patient that I realized I was not capable of dealing with the deaths of those in my care easily. Instead of helping those who were injured, I opted to assist with mental problems, something that I could heal without as much risk of death.” Dean nodded curtly, though Will sensed he was holding back a snort when Hannibal mentioned not wanting the deaths of those in his care.

“Makes sense,” was all Dean said.

“And yourself?” Hannibal questioned.

“Myself what?” Dean asked.

“What pushed you towards your own career path?”

“My dad, I guess,” was all Dean offered to say.

“What exactly do you two do?” Jack asked, one the few things he had said that evening. Dean gave Sam a sideways glance.

“I’m a mechanic back home. Sean here got the brains of the family. He’s a lawyer.”

“Ah, for what firm?” Jack asked, glancing at Sam.

“You’ve probably never heard of it, it’s rather small, in California,” Sam said immediately, almost as if it was rehearsed. Will guessed that it was.

“Try me,” Jack replied. A sinking feeling filled Will’s stomach. Giving false information to someone in the FBI with access to finding out if these things were true or not was something Will had not planned for. Hell, they were supposed to be killing a witch right now. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, Willis and Truman, just twenty minutes from Stanford,” Sam offered. Jack thought for a moment.

“Did they do the Geller case of ’03?” Jack asked. Sam nodded. “Good firm with some damn fine lawyers. You picked right, kid.” Jack continued eating. Will was nearly sweating bullets.

“A mechanic, you say?” Alana asked Dean, who nodded. “Maybe you could take a look at my car. It’s been making a strange noise.” A challenge.

“Sure. You give me your number and I’ll call you about it tomorrow,” Dean said smoothly. Alana raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe after dinner.”

“Your father was a mechanic?” Hannibal questioned.

“Yes, why do you ask?” Dean questioned, face unreadable.

“It seems odd for a mechanic to travel often for work,” Hannibal commented.

“He lost jobs often.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.”

“And why was that?”

“He was a drunk.”

“That makes you angry.”

“Is that a question?”

“No.”

“Okay!” Sam interrupted, seeing Dean beginning to get defensive. Will observed quietly, unable to finish his entire meal. Dean sat back. Will jumped when ‘I like big butts’ began to play. Sam’s face reddened as he placed two fingers to his forehead. Dean grabbed his phone and flipped it open immediately.

“Cas,” he stared, standing and leaving the room. Hannibal cocked his head at the name.

“Is this Cass Dean’s wife?” Hannibal asked, looking at Sam.

“No, uh, Cas is a work friend,” Sam responded.

“A woman mechanic? How odd.”

“How so?” Alana asked.

“I have not heard of many.”

“They’re more common than you’d think,” Alana stated defensively.

“Just an observation.”

-

“What is it, Cas? Fuck, I need to change your ringtone.”

“We’re on the move. Get out of there. It’s following the car.”

“Why don’t you just zap out?” Dean asked, fingers playing against his leg anxiously as he thought of the great black creature hunting his friends.

“Bobby insists I stay with him, and he refuses to be transported again.”

“ _Damn right_!” Bobby yelled in the background, getting an eye roll out of Dean.

“Crazy old bastard. Keep close, we’ll leave now. And Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“You get the fuck out of here if it gets aggressive.”

“Dean-”

“No buts!” Dean flipped the phone closed, walking quickly back into the dining room.

-

Will glanced up as Dean reentered, feeling worried about the strange look splayed across his features. Sam noticed it as well.

“Hate to eat and run, but there’s been an accident, we need to head out,” Dean said gruffly.

“Accident? Is everything all right?” Jack asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, back at the shop, my friend got snagged under a car, broke their fuc- broke their arm,” Dean grumbled.

“This Cass woman?” Alana asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Dean said, pointedly ignoring the fact that she called Cas a woman.

“I am terribly sorry to hear of your friend, Dan. It has been a great pleasure to meet you, and I hope you can return to my table shortly,” Hannibal said, rising and offering his hand to Dean, who took it reluctantly. Will didn’t realize how profusely he was sweating until he stood, realizing his suit was stuck to his back. He tried to wiggle in it and release his back without much luck. Alana stood, wrapping him in a hug, surprising the man.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered before letting go. Sam shook hands with Jack and Hannibal before Hannibal escorted the three to the front door. As soon as they were on the sidewalk, Dean called Castiel.

“We’re out. Are you okay?”

“It’s gone,” Will heard from beside them. He and Sam both jumped, but Dean remained in place. “Bobby is one street over. It disappeared shortly after you called. I wished to wait here until we knew it would not attack.” Both men had put their phones away. Sam ran his hands down his face.

“Jesus, we are _fucked_ ,” Dean groaned.

………..

Two days had passed since the failed attack. Dean and Castiel were out getting supplies for their small motel room (adjoining rooms, of course) and Bobby was crashing in the other room. It was just Will and Sam alone at a table, Sam scanning his laptop for more endless research and Will with his eyes closed, trying to distress himself and once more going over the night, scanning surroundings and things that may have indicated anything more out of the ordinary than normal. A small crease formed in his brow. Sam glanced up from the glowing monitor.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, tapping Will’s hand. Will’s eyes popped open, the crease remaining in place.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Will asked. Sam, as always, maintained his cool.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that, don’t treat me like a child. You know. Castiel, he said, he said ‘Neph’ before saying to protect _me_. What aren’t you telling me?” Will repeated, eyes narrowed. Sam’s face remained expressionless, but Will could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Sam sat back, closing his computer and running his hands through his too-long hair.

“I don’t know, man, Cas can be-”

“Stop. Just, just stop. If this regards myself, I need to know,” Will insisted, feeling anger boiling just beneath his skin.

“There are some things really you don’t want to know.”

“You’ve said that before, and I could handle it then.”

“Will-”

“I have been through _fucking hell_ , and I am certain that I can handle knowing what the goddam _angel_ was talking about!” Will yelled, his calm breaking. Sam was quiet, contemplating his options.

“Nephilim,” he whispered, averting Will’s gaze.

“What did you just say?”

“He- you. Will, Lucifer is… I-I’m sorry. Cas, he’s been tracking you. Hannibal, he’s connected to Lucifer, and you… Will, you’re a Nephilim.”

“I don’t understand.” Will could feel himself going numb, going into shock, into ‘this is too fucked up even for me’ mode.

“Will, you- you’re half human, and half… angel. A Nephilim. Will, your father… Your father is Lucifer.”


	6. Ignorance is bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, guys, I'm real sorry about these updates. I've got Tendonitis in my wrist and I'm not supposed to be typing. Not to mention that this chapter is really fucking short too.
> 
> I hate to say it, but I've got too much going on right now, and I won't be able to update for a while. I really want to focus on my SPN AU right now, so this is going to take a backseat. Hopefully I can update soonish, but for now it's looking like the next update will be mid July.

Will was sitting on the bed, completely in shock. Sam sat at the table, fingers still running through his hair, Castiel beside him. Dean was pacing back and forth, opening his mouth for an angry remark before closing it and violently shaking his head. Will had not spoken a word since Sam opened his mouth, and Dean could feel his shame radiating around the room, intermixing with Dean’s aroma of fury.

“Dean, I-”

“Don’t, Sam. Don’t.”

“Dean, the human needed to know,” Castiel commented.

“Not like this!” Dean snapped, eyes on fire. Castiel stood before Dean, always seeming to be invading personal space.

“Then what other way?” Castiel asked. Dean’s lips were a thin line. “Do not contradict your brother for –finally- making the right decision. A little late, I might add, but at least he decided. Will, I understand that you are under a great deal of stress-”

“Stress?” Will interrupted. “ _Stress_? Stress is forgetting your passport at home. _Stress_ is that I haven’t seen my dogs in a week. This? This is- this is _shattering_.” Will had anger written across his features, eyes blaring into Castiel’s, mouth wrenched into a snarl. “I am the _devil’s child_. So why don’t you shut the _fuck_ up about stress, and how I might be feeling?” Sam eyed Castiel, expecting an explosion. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his jaw tiredly.

“Lucifer, Morningstar, is my brother, Will. I understand your dislike-”

“ _Dislike_?”

“Loathing hatred, if you will. I understand. Sam understands. Dean understands. We _understand_. All of us here have a connection. I, his brother. Sam, his vessel. Dean, the vessel of Michael. And you. The last of our… deranged trio. The son. The abomination. Will, we _understand_. For the love of my Father, we understand.” Will was silent. Sam wouldn’t look at him, and the violent fury was gone from Dean’s face, exhaustion replacing it.

“You’re a… a _vessel_? What is that?” Will asked, looking over at the large man. Sam stood, walking out of the room and into Bobby’s, who had left because he ‘didn’t need to be here for this shitstorm’. Sam returned with a large bottle of whiskey, taking a long drink from the bottle before passing it to Dean, who did the same before passing it to Will. Will didn’t just take a sip. Will chugged it like water, not even flinching when he set the bottle down.

“A vessel for Lucifer,” Castiel began, “is _the_ human who can contain the wavelength of energy that is Morningstar. Sam is the only person on the planet able to contain him completely. As is the same with the vessel I have, Jimmy Novak, and the Dean, the vessel to Michael.” Sam stood, grabbing the bottle back from Will and tipping the amber liquid down his throat.

“What does this mean for me?” Will asked, feeling a blissful buzz in the back of his mind.

“It means we’re all fucked,” Dean grumbled, earning a sharp look from Castiel.

“It means that you are a Nephilim. There is only one recorded case, and she is a country away. You are unrecorded. We… Will, do you have much family?” Will frowned.

“None, actually,” he muttered.

“Will,” Castiel said softly, touching his arm. Will didn’t flinch away. “You were not born in this time. There were rumours. God, were there rumours. That in the Garden, before Eve gave birth to Cain and Abel, that there was another child, a child of Morningstar. It was said that she birthed it, and it was immediately sent to Hell by the archangel Gabriel. No one knew if it was true. Gabriel never spoke a word. Lucifer… He must have returned you to Earth, knowing that he would evidentially rise.” Will’s face was pale. He sat with a blank look on his face. You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

“My mother… was _Eve_?”

“Yes.” Will began retching, jumping off the bed, tripping and falling, vomiting onto the floor. He collapsed just beside the mess, shaking and groaning. Sam got up, leaning down beside him and trying to say anything that may be calming, though he knew it was useless.

“Cas, who else knows about this?” Dean intoned, taking Castiel over to the door. The angel touched the man’s shoulder, and they found themselves on a dark bridge, hear overwhelming. “What- where are we?”

“Australia. Sydney, to be exact.”

“Well shit.”

“To answer your question. Lucifer, of course, knows. As do all of us, and… Hannibal. The witch. The Skinwalker cannot possibly kill the man, but Hannibal has been driving him to the brink of insanity, enough so that Will’s body is becoming distressed, making him prone to attack and weak enough for a powerful enough witch, like Hannibal, to kill him.”

“Kill him? Why does Lucifer want him dead?”

“I… do not know. Perhaps this man is to take over hell? Perhaps Lucifer wishes to test how resilient his spawn is?” Castiel shrugged. “We would need to ask him ourselves. Perhaps Hannibal is working on his own, and just has a hatred of this Nephilim. We may never know.”

“We just have to keep the son of a bitch safe until this shitstorm blows over,” Dean muttered, echoing Bobby’s earlier words.

“Exactly.” They stood, looking out at the city, the Sydney Opera House, the skyscrapers, the beauty.

“I always wanted to see this place.”

“Now that you have, was it worth the wait?” Dean smiled at Castiel.

“Definitely.”

………..

When the two arrived back at the motel, Will was unconscious once more, and Sammy was edging on drunk. Bobby still wasn’t back, but the Impala was parked in her regular spot, so Dean assumed that the old drunk had walked to the liquor store to refuel.

“Everything all right?” Dean asked. Sam glared.

“Yeah Dean, fan-fucking-tastic. Thanks for leaving me behind with your mess.” Sam stood, leaving the small room. Dean sighed once more, sitting down on the bed opposite Will. Castiel was pacing, a frown on his face.

“Cas, you gonna explain why you’re pacing more than a couple busted for a blowjob at the spring dance?”

“Why is the witch not after us?”

“Maybe he knows something we don’t?”

“No… he should be able to conjure some spell to track us, especially him,” Castiel insisted, pointing at the sleeping form of Will. Before Dean could make a retort, the door was busted open, the shouts of FBI ringing in Dean’s ears. He collapsed onto his knees, hands behind his head. Castiel was gone. Sam ran into the room, immediately doing the same as Dean. Will remained unconscious.


	7. War Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham discovers exactly what he is and what he's capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting this long! I'm hoping to update this again soon, and I promise the Hannibal side will be coming out to play!

There was someone moving Will to his feet. Roughly, and definitely not someone who was a happy camper about it. Will groaned, his eyes flashing open. Some random FBI agent had a grip on his shoulders and was trying to hoist him up. Will pushed him away, scrambling back. He sat there, utterly shocked, staring at his hands in disbelief when he saw the man fly across the room and hit the wall with a thud. There was the sound of a gun cocking, and Will turned his head to find Jack Crawford pointing a pistol at his head.

“Jack,” Will said softly. “This is not what it looks like.”

“Well it looks pretty fucking weird, Will! Holed up in here with these two,” Jack said, waving a hand towards Dean and Sam, who were handcuffed with two agents holding them, “and Hannibal saying he feels threatened by you! Dammit, Will, this is all too much! You’ve really gotten yourself in trouble! Just look at all of this… Satanic shit you’ve got in here! What am I supposed to do?”

“What are we being charge with?” Will asked calmly.

“Attempted ritual murder, according to these posters. Assaulting an FBI agent. And, for the crazy brothers over there, everything from credit card fraud to straight up murder.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, looking convincingly confused.

“Oh shut up, Sam. I’m just angry I didn’t notice at dinner. Took a while to click, you know.” Dean shook his head.

“Goddam FBI agents,” he grumbled.

“Will, I’m going to handcuff you now.”

“Jack, I _really_ don’t think you want to touch me right now.” Will could feel it. Power, running in electric waves, just below his skin. Strength filled his muscles and something along the lines of adrenaline was filling his veins. He had never felt this before, never.

“Will, I need you to let me handcuff you.”

“Cas, wait!” Will heard, turning to see the angel touch the agents, watching them collapse on the ground as Castiel placed a hand on each of the Winchesters and they disappeared. Jack stood there, mouth open, completely frozen.

“How-”

“Jack, calm down.”

“No! Stop right there!” Jack yelled as Will began to move forwards, pointing the gun at his forehead.

“Jack, please.”

“What the hell is going on? What just happened to my agents!?”

“Jack-” Will began, but was cut off when the fluttering of wings sounded in his ears and he found himself bathed in darkness. Will dropped to his knees, feeling cold cement scraping against them from under his jeans, which Castiel had healed just over a week ago, and he hoped he wouldn’t need to be bandaging again.

“Sam! Where are you?” Will heard.

“Dean?” he called out.

“Will? Can you see?”

“No, I-” Will stopped, gasping and holding his hand in front of his eyes when a blindingly bright light flashed on. Will’s eyes swiveled in his head as he looked around, finding Dean to be about a hundred feet in front of him. He stood shakily, finding Sam to be on the opposite side of the room, sitting up and looking dazed.

“Cas!” Dean shouted. Will turned when he heard shoes scraping, seeing Dean bolt towards the pile of clothing that evidently had an angel in it. Will stumbled towards them, holding a hand to his head. He heard Sam’s footsteps pounding towards them. Will tripped over his own feet, sending himself flying. He caught himself on his elbow, hissing in pain and curling up on his side. He felt dizzy, much too dizzy. Sam’s hands were on his side.

“Will? Hey, you okay? Oh my God,” Sam whispered.

“What? What?” Will asked, rolling over.

“Will. Will, take your shirt off.”

“What!?”

“Just do it!” Will tried to get to his knees, only managing it when Sam steadied him. Ignoring the shooting pain in his elbow, Will thrust his shirt over his head. “Jesus _Christ_.” Will turned his head, trying to look at his back. He made it as far as his shoulders. Will paled. The design of wings was etched into his skin with an inky blackness.

“What the hell!?” Will demanded, head spinning as he tried to stretch and see the design.

“Sam! Help me with Cas!” Dean yelled, voice echoing across the large room.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam promised, releasing his hold on Will and running over to his brother. Will fell again, sitting with his legs spread and a shaking hand caressing the design. His head was still spinning, he assumed he still wasn’t used to being transported. But being… what he was, shouldn’t he have no problem?

“Will? Are you all right?” he heard a gruff voice ask. Will looked towards Castiel, seeing him sitting up shakily, Dean keeping a hand on his shoulder while Sam stood from crouching, moving back towards Will.

“Yeah, I-I think so,” Will told him, running a hand through his messy hair. Castiel looked awful. The bags under his eyes were darker, his hair a mess, his face totally pale. “What about you?”

“I overused my grace. I will be fine,” Castiel told him, shoving Dean away and staggering to his feet, nearly tripping, but Dean caught the angel, holding him up with his arm. Sam offered Will a hand and he took it, pulling himself into a standing position, leaving his shirt on the ground.

“ _Dude_ ,” Dean said, looking at Will’s shoulders.

“How did they get here?” Will asked, eyes boring into Castiel’s. He looked away, seeming to be unable to meet Will’s gaze. “Castiel! What aren’t you telling me?”

“A… lot,” Castiel admitted. Dean raised an eyebrow, but Sam seemed unaffected. Will was exhausted, but anger was simmering below the surface.

“I want the whole story.” Castiel nodded.

“And it is what you deserve. Will, you are the child of Eve and Lucifer. When I sent Sam and Dean after the Skinwalker, I told them that they would meet you, and that it was being controlled by a witch. That was all. The morning after, I told Dean that you are the child of Lucifer. I myself knew Eve must be your mother, but neglected to tell that to them. When you met with your… acquaintances outside, I filled Sam in as well. Will, let me tell you that I am deeply sorry for your existence. It was not known that such a child truly existed, or that it would one day be brought back from the gates of hell. It was our understanding that, if the child did exist, it would surely be killed. We did not know that you would be brought to life here, now. The reason… the reason you’re back is because of your father. He believes that you need to prove yourself worthy as his child, worthy to fight alongside him, which is why he sent a witch after you. He wanted the witch to see how far your mental and physical capabilities could stretch, hence the Skinwalker. The witch most likely pulled you from hell, and brought you here as your father wished. Yes, I lied. I lied about how much knowledge I had, but it was necessary if we were going to make an attempt on the witch’s life. He is too powerful, he would have been able to know if you were aware of his purpose and he would have killed the Winchesters on site, and attempted to kill you as well. We… we should have killed you, Will. I’m sorry that your life has gone on for this long. Those markings, on your shoulders… if you live long enough, they will grow to an enormous rate before bursting through the skin. If that happens, you will lose all of your humanity. You are now becoming aware of your powers, which is why they have appeared on your flesh. It is my duty to kill you, but I cannot. We need you, Will. You are powerful, more powerful than you know. I can sense that you have an idea, and when angered you can release this power, but it is otherwise hidden.

“Will, I need you to tap into this power. If you do not learn how to use it, the witch will kill us all. Using these powers will eventually turn you into something you’re not, but if you don’t use them against the witch, a great number will die. I am too weak to do much protecting, and the Winchesters are mere men. If you don’t kill that witch, he’ll forget about Lucifer and torture you, possibly for all eternity, and he will be able to subdue your powers. Please, Will. If you do this, I will grant you a death you cannot come back from. A death that can free you,” Castiel concluded. Both Winchesters had their mouths hanging open in disbelief. Not at the story, not at the lies, but that Castiel’s main way of trying to convince Will to be on their side was death. Will’s mind was spinning rapidly. He was an abomination, he was the literal definition of _satanic spawn_. But death? Why was that the only way out? Will found himself slowly sinking to his knees, head in his hands.

“Why do I need to die?” he gasped out.

“It’s the only way. If you are to live, you will not be righteous, only a creature of darkness.”

“That’s bullshit, Cas!” Dean yelled. He looked up to see Castiel strike Dean across the face.

“You cannot change his destiny, Dean! You can change your own, and you can change Sam’s, but you _cannot_ change his; not now. That’s why we waited, Dean! Look! _Look at him_! Look at his back! He _cannot_ be changed!”

“We have to do _something_!” Sam insisted.

“Stop! Just _stop_!” Will yelled, his voice booming above theirs. He silenced even himself, a bewildered expression crossing his face. “I- I-”

“Your abilities are growing rapidly,” Castiel remarked.

“Is there any way I can live? _Any_ way?” Will asked. Images of Alana and his dogs and Jack and Beverly and Brian and Jimmy and Abigail flashed into his mind; the only people he really cared about, even if one was dead.

“The people you care about will die. Everyone will die. After Lucifer rises, he will find you, or you will go to him. He will use you in the battle against Michael. If we do not end your life, you will help to end the lives of millions, and you will not be aware of it.” Will was finding it difficult to focus, tears in his eyes as he fell to his hands and knees, his entire body aching.

“What’s happening?” he hissed.

“Cas, what’s wrong with him?” Dean seethed, and Will felt a hand on his shoulder.

“The witch; he must be doing this somehow.”

“It’s not the Skinwalker?”

“No, that creature is likely gone; it would never have been able to kill him.” All of the voices were blending together in Will’s mind.

“Help me,” he whispered, clutching his stomach.

“Is it a hex bag? Why the hell is this even hurting him? Shouldn’t he have super powers?”

“I don’t know, Dean! I don’t have all of the answers! Will! Will, I need you… I need you to open your eyes,” Will heard. He clenched them shut. “ _Open your eyes_.” With more difficulty than he thought he would have, Will flashed his lids open, meeting Castiel’s burning gaze. He felt something writhing in his chest as he looked into the angel’s eyes, and he saw something burning deep inside of them. Gasping, he fell to the ground.

“What in the _fuck_ was that?” Dean demanded. Castiel fell backwards from his crouched position, colliding with Dean’s knees and moaning.

“Cas, hey, you okay?” Sam asked him. Will looked at his hands, his vision clear, everything totally normal.

“What the hell was that?” he asked shrilly.

“Someone was causing you harm,” Castiel coughed, blood dripping from his nose. “I… I attached my own grace to your soul, and I forced them away.” Will was silent.

“Why?”

“Because you need to be alive… for now,” Castiel told him, sending a shard of ice straight into his stomach.

“I don’t want to die,” Will breathed. He looked from one man to the other, only Castiel meeting his pained gaze.

“None of us want you to die. When you discover your powers, and, judging by your reactions lately, that should be soon, you can kill us without a second thought. But before you are overtaken by them, I want you to think, Will, and I want you to decide for yourself; are you really worth all of the pain this will cause people?” Castiel asked.

“How can you just _ask_ someone that? How can you ask that of a person? How!?”

“I’m not asking it of a person. I’m asking it of _you_.” That struck Will silent, and it closed Dean’s mouth from making a statement.

“I am a person,” he whispered.

“You are not.”

“Cas-”

“Dean, I think you need to realize exactly who you are speaking to,” Castiel snapped.

“Don’t you go all high and mighty on me, Cas! We’re family, and we need to work this out!”

“There is no working anything out, Dean! Will, I am going to be painfully blunt. You are the child of Satan and the Mother of all Monsters. _You are not human_. You have a human body, a human soul, but _you are not human_. Not with the power you have. I need to realize that Nephilim is the best description I have for what you are, but even that is a stretch. _You are not human_. _You are not a person_. You are a war machine. And you need to decide- are you with us, or are you with them?”

Will blinked rapidly.

_Are you with us, or are you with them?_

For the first time in a long time, Will wasn’t entirely sure of what his answer was going to be.


	8. Slice and Dice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK MOTHERFUCKERS. Sorry a million times over for this long ass delay, and then this shittily short chapter. Uuuuugh I am SO SORRY. Please take this thirty times rewritten piece of garbage as my apology. Now that my stupid ass writer's block seems to have cleared, I'll be updating this soon, definitely not in two fucking months.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Tell me your favourite parts, or let me know if I fucked up somewhere!
> 
> PS. I'm running a fever so I honestly don't really know why I'm posting this, but, and this may be the fever talking, I'm gonna risk it. Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes!

When Will opened his eyes, he was outside of Hannibal’s house. He fell to the ground, chest heaving, eyes wide. What the _fuck_ had just happened? How- how was he _here_? Who brought him here? Will couldn’t remember. Why? Had he walked? He shook his head, and, trembling, slowly got to his feet. He looked around and found the street to be dead quiet. No lights on in the houses, no people outside, not even a dog barking in the distance. Will hissed, reaching around himself to scratch at the tattoos that had appeared on his body. He clutched his head when pain shot through it- a voice, ripping through his mind-

_Angels or family, Will?_

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Will jumped when Hannibal’s front door opened. He shrank back from the light, shifting away and tripping over his feet. Hannibal chuckled softly from above. Will’s breath caught in his throat when he turned around and found not the wrought iron gate that was outside of the witch’s house, but instead a solid rock wall, trapping in with this… beast. Will tried to find whatever power he had and SHIFT this newly appeared thing, but something was wrong. Either he didn’t understand his power enough go move this, or someone was keeping him from doing so.

“Angel wardings are really quite the clever invention,” Hannibal quipped. “I had suspected you would be immune to them, but perhaps since you are so new to your abilities it would be fruitless for you to even attempt.”

“What do you want?” Will demanded, backing against the wall and keeping his eyes on the man before him. A small smile quirked at the corner of Hannibal’s mouth.

“To invite you to a private dinner, of course.” Will gulped. ‘Private dinner’ couldn’t mean anything good. Will took a shaky breath and moved away from the wall.

“And if I refuse?” Will questioned.

“Look around you.” Hannibal gestured his hand about the small courtyard. “Where will you run to?” Will took a deep breath, steadying himself, his heart racing. He nodded to himself. It wasn’t like je had anywhere to hide, and if he was to find actual answers about who he truly was, Hannibal was the best option, whether he liked it or not. Will stepped forwards with confidence that surprised both himself and Hannibal.

“What are we having?” he asked. Hannibal just smiled and entered his house once more, Will following behind him. Hannibal closed the door and gestured to the kitchen.

“After you. Our main course awaits.” Will cautiously crept forwards and, upon entering the kitchen, bit his lip to keep from crying out. There was Bobby, splayed across the table, hands and feet bound but mouth left ungagged. There was a nasty wound on the back of his left ankle, cutting deep through bone and tendon alike. Blood spattered the floor as well as Bobby himself and Will found he was nearly gagging. Bobby was covered in sweat, eyes lidded heavily, breathing ragged. His beard was a dark comparison to his abnormally pale face.

“Will- get. Out,” Bobby gasped. Hannibal flicked his wrist and the man let out a pained groan, back arching off of the table and teeth clenching.

“Let him go,” Will told Hannibal in a level tone. “He has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh? Does he not?”

“He’s just a fat old drunk, won’t be of any use to you or me, and I’m sure he tastes like shit,” Will told him. In his mind, he was grasping at straws, but on the outside he remained composed. Hannibal chuckled at his last comment.

“Ah, but the whiskey gives it extra flavour, Will. A certain… charm, don’t you think?” Will grit his teeth.

“Hannibal, please, enough of these games. Release him.” Hannibal sighed, moving around Will and towards Bobby, picking up a large knife as he passed. Will’s lips twitched as Hannibal raised the knife and Bobby let out a yell, but the witch just cut the rope binding Bobby’s hands. Will let out a small breath while Bobby released a string of swears. Hannibal frowned.

“A very rude mouth on you,” Hannibal commented.

“Wait, Hannibal, no-” But it was too late. Hannibal brought the knife down and ripped from Bobby’s stomach to his chest, only stopping when his ribs became a problem. A vibrant shower of red left the wound, spraying across Hannibal and Will alike, seeping down the sides of the table. Blood poured from Bobby’s mouth, his eyes wide and a choking sound escaping him. His body twitched and then convulsed as the blood slowly escaped him.

“Don’t- do…” Bobby gargled before another violent mouthful of blood caught the words in his throat. He retched and hacked before a soft sigh escaped his lips, and his eyes shut for the last time. The room was silent save for the _drip drip drip_ of blood leaving Bobby’s corpse and falling to the floor.

“A pity, really,” Hannibal said, wiping the blade on a cloth. “These shoes were rather expensive, and they seem to be ruined.” Will opened his mouth to speak before slowly closing it. What was he even going to say? He felt sick, he wanted to throw up, to leave, to _run_ , but something was holding him there, whether it be his quest for answers or perhaps a dark enjoyment of the display before him. He was, after all, Satan’s spawn. A smile curved at Hannibal’s lips. He moved forwards carelessly, taking his thumb and moving it across Will’s lips, removing the blood from there. Will stiffened under his touch.

“You killed him.”

“Quite the observation, Will. You must be a genius,” Hannibal commented as he walked towards the knife rack, producing a butcher’s cleaver. He looked at the blade fondly. “You know, when I was a young man, I killed a butcher. My first kill. He too was rude.”

“With the cleaver?” Will asked, stepping past the still oozing body to stand behind Hannibal.

“Unfortunately, no. It was more… honourable to use a Katana. He was as smooth as butter.” Will suppressed a shiver that threatened to run down his spine.

“And when, exactly, were you a young man, Hannibal?” Will questioned, following him as he traced his steps back to Bobby’s corpse.

“That was in the mid 1950s, I was perhaps eighteen at the time.” Will gulped.

“When did you become a witch?” he asked, looking away and cringing when Hannibal slammed the cleaver into Bobby’s neck, severing the head. He threw it carelessly onto the floor, where it rolled away. Hannibal put the cleaver aside, producing a blade that looked almost like a scalpel. Hannibal looked over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Oh, Will. I cannot reveal such secrets to a man like yourself.” Will scoffed.

“Man? In case you haven’t heard, Doctor, I’m a… a _monster_.” Hannibal set the small knife down, turning towards Will, his lips curled into a sneer.

“And who told you that? Certainly not me, Will. Those… _Winchesters_ told you that. Did it ever occur to you that they are wrong? You are no monster, Will. You are magnificent. You are beautiful. You are a creature of divine wrath. Nowhere in you is room for a monster.” Will pushed his brows together; who was he supposed to believe?

“If I’m so… magnificent, why did you torture me for so long? Feed me human meat? Why?”

“The Skinwalker, he was a challenge to find; an Alpha, in fact. Very rare. He was sent by your father, I just happened to be the one who was in charge of keeping him alive.” Will shuddered at the mention of Lucifer being his father. He would never get over that. “The Skinwalker was to test your mental abilities. You faired very well. Your father is pleased. He has been released. And as for the human meat, well, it was not human, I am afraid.”

“Wh- what?” Will stammered.

“It was cut from living demons. It was to strengthen you, Will! Do you not feel strong? Do you not feel tired of all of the lies? I have told you no lies; the Winchesters have lied from the very beginning. Will, join me. Join your father. Help us cleanse this earth!” Will gulped as he looked from Hannibal to Bobby’s body.

“You fed me… demon meat? Demons, how- oh my God.” Will turned away, holding his hand to his mouth. Demons. Innocent people nonetheless. They could leave the bodies after Hannibal took the meat, but the people… they were dead. All of them. “Why?”

“For you.”

“Why would you _kill_ for me? _Why_?” Will gasped, feeling gut wrenching guilt in his gut.

“You don’t understand how necessary you truly are, Will.”

“Not necessary enough for death!” he shouted, turning back to the witch. “ _No one_ is worth the death of the innocent! No one!”

“Tell that to your United States government,” Hannibal scoffed.

“Enough of this small talk. You want me to join my father. What happens if I refuse?” Hannibal crossed his arms, leaning against the counter and watching Will with his head cocked to the side.

“Why would you refuse?” A gruff laugh left Will’s lips.

“Why _wouldn’t_ I?” Hannibal moved off of the counter and slowly crossed the room. He moved so that he and Will’s bodies were close. He grabbed Will’s face, looking into his eyes.

“You chose you come here,” he whispered. “So why would you refuse?” Will swallowed roughly as Hannibal stepped back over to Bobby and continued to cut his body. Will was frozen. Why did he go there, if not to join his father? Would he even be able to say no at this point? What would happen if he did? He took a deep breath.

“What would I have to do, if I… agreed to stand with you?” Hannibal didn’t move from his position over the bloody vessel before him.

“You would help your father to persuade Sam Winchester to be his vessel, and once Michael finds his vessel in Dean Winchester, you would aid your father on the battlefield against his brother, your uncle. You two would be victorious in your battle, and proceed to cleanse the Earth.”

“What does that mean, cleanse the earth?” Will asked unsteadily. Hannibal stood for a moment, and then leaned back over.

“All humans who oppose Lucifer will be infected with the Croatoan virus, and all who choose to serve Lucifer will be granted as the divine vessels of demons with dual control to their bodies with the demon. The angels who oppose Lucifer with be killed. Those who do not will be locked in the prison of Heaven. The Earth will be allowed to go back to its natural state and filter out all of the damage done by your mankind.”

“And what about the true monsters?” Will asked quietly, mind reeling at all of the information that had been thrust upon him.

“Like myself? Or the Skinwalker?” Will nodded numbly. “We will be allowed to live in peace so long as we learn our place.”

“I- I need to think this over.”

“Understandably. It is an easy decision, but I understand that it may be considered morally to wrong to one such as yourself, what with your morality being twisted by that bureau.” Will moved his hands to cover his face.

“If I don’t want to do this, what happens?” Hannibal’s shoulders rose and fell.

“I summon Lucifer, and he arrives to… persuade you to join.”

“Persuade me?”

“Indeed.”

“And what does that entail?”

“Well I can only imagine he will explain his situation and show you what may occur.”

“Can I leave to… mull this over?”

“You are welcome to one of my spare rooms to recooperate.”

“Outside of this house.”

“I am afraid not. The fallen angel has embedded your ribs with ghastly symbols, likely the reason your wings are still trapped. Neither I nor Lucifer can detect you, I am afraid. Your leaving would prove… difficult.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Hannibal turned to flash Will a smile.

“Not at all.”

There was a bang and shouting; Will dropped to the ground, rolling into a corner, eyes on Hannibal the whole time. “What’s happening!?” he shouted. The witch dropped his blade and wiped the blood from his hands with a white rag, frowning.

“It appears your vessel friends and their dying angel have arrived,” Hannibal told him dryly.

“Will!? Will, don’t make any deals! Don’t let him summon Lucifer!” Will heard Dean shout. He looked from Hannibal to the door.

Decision time.

Was he to stand with Lucifer, his father, his flesh and blood, or with these Winchesters, who proved to be liars and full of deceit? He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened them, he was confused. A forest? Why in the world was in a _forest_? What was happening? He looked around, seeing Dean on the ground, covered in blood, Sam beside him but clean. Castiel was not far off, looking deathly pale. Will’s eyes widened; what was happening?

“Dean?” he breathed, stepping forwards tentatively. He let out a strangled moan and dropped to the ground, arms reaching behind himself and clawing at the flashes of pain that circled his shoulders. A scream ripped from his mouth as he fell to the ground. “H-help.”

The fire was licking his back, about to completely consume him, when there was a sharp coldness seeping into his shoulders. A gargled shout escaped him as he curled in on himself, teeth clenched.

“STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP!”

And then there was nothing.

Will took large mouthfuls of air, grateful for how cool they were on his raw throat. He sat up slowly, eyes clearing from the blackness that had momentarily been his vision. Castiel was before him, bloody angel blade in hand, lips moving slowly.

“Will? Will, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Will murmured.

“Good. Stay exactly where you are,” Castiel instructed, moving over to where the Winchester brothers lay. Dean was stirring, and Sam had sat up himself. Will realized that he was in an unknown place with these three and hurriedly tried to move, but fell flat on his face, a whine of pain leaving his lips. He craned his next and froze on his hands and knees.

Behind his body were massive maroon coloured wings, spreading and seeming to be able to touch the sun. Will’s vision faded to black.


	9. Maroon Wings and White Eyes

When Will came to, he felt… powerful. He sat up slowly, ever so slowly, cringing at the pain that was raking through his back. He flinched when he heard someone _scream_ his name. “WILL WILL WILL!” Why were they so _loud_?

“ _Shut up_ ,” Will seethed, hands over his ears. There was silence around him. He let out a yelp when he felt himself moving… something. Something that was so foreign, but at the same time so incredibly familiar. His eyes flashed open, the forest around him spinning. He shut his eyes again with a cry of pain, and after he felt the dizziness fading he opened them once more, finding himself on his knees, sitting back before he carefully moved his head to look around himself. Sam was near, just a foot away, hands spread cautiously before himself. Castiel was on the other side of the forest, hands spread over Dean’s battered body as a weak, fading blue light spread over the man’s torso. “What happened?” Will asked, feeling as if his mouth was full of marbles.

“YOU TELL US,” Sam shouted.

“Stop shouting!” Will yelled, moaning as he covered his ears.

“WILL. WILL, CONCENTRATE. FOCUS ON YOUR HEARING. STOP THE YELLING, WILL, I KNOW YOU CAN,” Castiel told him. Will felt as if his entire head was going to explode- he could hear the wind rustling the leaves, the snakes under the ground, the mice scampering around in the tall grass in the field nearby- _everything was so loud_.

“STOP IT STOP IT!” he screeched- and it did.

“Will?” Sam asked, carefully creeping towards him.

“Sam,” Will gasped out, chest heaving as he moved further backwards. He jumped when he felt… something scrape across the ground, and it _hurt_. “What’s happening?” he moaned, his entire body tensing as pain swept through him. He felt hands on his face.

“Just look at me, okay Will?” Sam told him. Will moved his eyes to Sam’s face, and he could practically feel Sam’s heart skip a beat.

“What is it?” Will breathed.

“Yo- you’re eyes. They’re… they’re not…”

“What?” Will gasped out.

“They’re… oh, God, can you see me, Will? They’re just- just white.” Will wanted to throw up.

“I can see you,” he told Sam, hands grasping at his arms. “I can see. I can. What- what happened? What’s- where am I?”

“I don’t know. Will. Just. Don’t move.”

“What? Why!?”

“Hey! Hey, looking at me, remember? We just… landed here. But it wasn’t Cas. Cas is too weak to fly. It must’ve been you. But you were… screaming. And then Cas, he cut open… Will, can you… move them?” Will’s head was spinning. Cut what? Move what? It didn’t make any sense.

“What are you talking about?” he seethed.

“Your wings, Will,” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper. It was as if someone had dumped Will into a bucket of ice water. His- his wings? It came back to him, the searing hot pain, the red canopy of him- _his wings_. He moved his head out of Sam’s hands, craning his neck to look behind himself. There they were. Spread out behind him, arched just above the ground. They were a glorious dark red, the feathers dipping down and getting lighter the further they went, ending in just barely white at the tips.

Will turned away from Sam, vomiting on the ground.

“ _I didn’t ask for this_!” he shrieked. “ _I didn’t ask for LUCIFER or to be a MONSTER! I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!_ ” Sam slapped him across the face, and then he was flying backwards, head hitting the trunk of a tree with a sick _smack_. Will’s hands flew to his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry,” he breathed.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted, trying to get up, but unable to. Castiel was still sewing and stitching his flesh- it was taking much too long for an angel. But how much angel was really left in Castiel at this point?

“He’s alive, don’t move,” Castiel grunted, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Dean tried to protest, but one look from Castiel made him shut his mouth. Will tried to move, but every muscle was screaming at him. He PUSHED, forcing himself up on his feet and to stumble drunkenly towards Sam. He dropped to his knees, taking Sam’s head in his hands and slapping against his cheeks, trying to force him awake.

“Sam? Sam, open your eyes,” Will murmured, brushing the hair from the other man’s face and trying to get him to just open his damn eyes. After another moment of failed attempts, Sam’s eyes blinked open blearily and Will let out a side, Dean cursing from the tree he was sitting against as Castiel moved his hands continually over Dean’s torso. “Sam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that wasn’t really me I have no idea where that came from-”

“Will! It’s okay. I’m- I’m fine,” Sam said, reaching his hand back and flinching when he touched his skull. He tried to hide the blood when he moved his hand away, but Will knew it was there. Will spun towards Castiel, barely feeling the pain, knowing that there was something in the works in his body. He was using grace he didn’t know how to use to heal himself of all the rips and tears in his body, and it was terrifying.

“Kill me,” Will commanded, moving to Castiel, who had just fallen back from Dean, who grabbed the angel, quickly trading places with him and hurrying to Sam, fussing over his head and casting furious glances at Will. Castiel only shook his head. “I can see now. I… it’s too late for me. Please. Just. Do it.”

“I can’t,” Castiel snapped.

“What do you mean you can’t!?” Will yelled, raising a hand- and a wing in the air. He froze. He moved a wing. What. The. Hell. Castiel arched an eyebrow, watching as Will moved the wing again, testing and trying to figure out how they worked, what they would do.

“I mean,” Castiel began slowly, “I can’t. Your powers are too great. We once encountered an Anti-Christ. You are one hundred Anti-Christ’s. When you were unaware of the powers you possessed, it would have been hard to kill you. Hard, but not impossible. Now… Now there is no way it can be done.” Will stood, head in his hands, jaw clenched as he tried to figure out just what the hell he was doing and what the hell he could possibly do that this point.

“Well what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Will spat. Castiel sighed.

“I… I truly do not know. And for that, Will, I am sorry,” Castiel told him, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Is it the eyes?” Will demanded. “Is that why you won’t look at me? Or is it the wings? Because guess what, bud, both are you fault, so you _fucking look_ , you spineless bastard.” Castiel’s eyes snapped to his face, cold and lifeless.

“It is neither. I will not look at you because I am ashamed. Ashamed of what I let you become. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“You’re fucking right about that!” Will shouted.

“What do we do?” Dean asked, voice ringing out across the cluster of trees. Will felt the wind in his feathers, and it was the weirdest sensation he had ever had. Castiel sighed again, raking a hand through his hair. Vessel’s hair? Was the vessel even in there anymore? Was Castiel even an angel anymore?

“I don’t know, Dean. It’s up to Will at this point. We hold no cards. I don’t even know why he chose to transport us with him, rather than leaving us to the witch. Will can choose to fight with us, or with his father- and we absolutely cannot influence his decision.”

“Like hell we can’t!” Dean told him. He left Sam, who was staring quietly at the ground, eyes closed but not sleeping, and walked right up to Will. He paused, eyes boring into the wings that stretched out behind Will in alarm, but then shook his head and looked right into Will’s eyes. Which must have taken more effort than Will knew Dean had. “Listen to me, Will. You’re not a monster. You’re not a human, but you aren’t a monster either, not yet. Being a monster… it’s what you decide to do that makes you a monster. If you choose to kill the entire planet, then _that_ will tip the scales. No coming back. Look at yourself! You’re powerful, you’ve got fucking _wings_ , and what have you done? Nothing. Cas was wrong. He was wrong, and he knows it. You getting those big fuckers didn’t just flip a switch in your mind, Will. You have a _choice_. And I’m begging- I’m fucking _begging_ that you make the right one. Please. Please, God, make the right one,” Dean said, eyes flicking around in their sockets but remaining focused on Will. Will swallowed harshly.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ground out.

“And that’s okay,” Dean said, placing one hand on Will’s shoulder. The pain was completely gone. “I just want you to think. Think about everything you know. Will, Lucifer will _destroy_ the planet. Me and Sam and Cas? We’re assholes. We’re liars and murderers and thieves. We’ve done terrible, awful things, and you should hate us- hell, _we_ hate us. I’m not asking you to trust us, I’m not. But I need you to understand, that even though we’re liars and murderers and thieves- we’re _fucking right_. This one time, this one godforsaken time, _we are right_.” Will nodded to himself. Why, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was his body agreeing with Dean’s words when his mind was still reeling.

“How much of an angel are you?” Will asked, looking past Dean at Castiel. He lowered his head.

“I’m ninety percent human.” Will saw Dean’s eyes close and face go slack, other than his jaw, which ground and clenched. Will knew Dean was trying to keep his cool in front of Castiel, but he could tell his entire body was screaming panic- he could feel it rolling off of him in waves as he stood before Will.

“So no transporting?”

“No,” Castiel responded coldly. Will nodded.

“Okay. We’ll stay here then. Let Sam heal up. I… I don’t know what to do,” Will admitted. Dean nodded.

“Me either.”

“And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m-” Will’s voice hitched, and he snapped his eyes shut, forcing himself to speak. “I’m sorry. For so much.”

“I’m sorry we ever found you and forced you into this,” Dean returned, sincerity in his eyes. Will nodded.

“Me too,” he breathed.

……….

Sam fell asleep against the tree, and soon both Castiel and Dean were asleep beside the youngest Winchester, Castiel’s head resting against Dean’s shoulder. Dean had built a fire in the small clearing, and Will was keeping first watch. He found he didn’t need the fire to be able to see anymore. It was eerie, looking out in the dark and seeing everything as if it were day. There was no colour, it was all shades of black and grey, but it didn’t matter- he could still see clearly as he stared ahead. And so he reached behind himself, gingerly gripping the tip of a wing and pulling it forwards. His breath caught as he began to stroke his fingers through them- it felt _good_. It was odd, but so incredibly calming. It relaxed Will as he moved his shaking fingers through them, and soon he found the wing gripping him back. He clamped his free hand around his mouth- how could it-?

And then there was a flash to his elementary years. Birds had alulas on their feathers. Little tiny nubby fingers that bird had. Will could feel himself moving them, but also felt as if they moving on their own- it was all so much, the sensation on his fingers and the knowledge that he had these great big _things_ that he could move and use as he pleased.

Sitting back by the fire, Will tried to steady his breaths. He could feel it under his skin, running in his veins- the sheer, raw _power_. It was coursing through him, and he could feel the desire to do so many things will it propelling him forwards. But forwards towards what? He sat back, eyes closed but ears open, thinking.

And it hit him.

Dean was right.

The Winchesters may be liars, they may be petty- but they were _right_. All of humanity couldn’t be bad. Working with the FBI, Will had certainly seen his fair share of the bad. But the kids? The small, innocent little babies? Why did they deserve to die? Why did the good deserve to perish just because the bad was there as well? And it hit Will- how completely and utterly wrong Lucifer was. The power had tried to sway him towards whatever would allow it to be used the most, not caring what destruction it caused, but now it was as if something was lifted from Will’s sight. Lucifer was so very, very wrong and misguided.

Will knew what he had to do.

He had to kill his father and he had to kill Hannibal.

And then, when both were dead and gone, he had to kill himself.


	10. Night's watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's such a short chapter- my ideas for this fic seem to be leaving me. This is just a filler, and I'm hoping that the creative juices will flow soon and we can get some longer chapters!

Will let the Winchesters and their angel sleep through the night. God knew they needed it. He sat the entire night, watching the forest, eyes scanning for movement. He saw the bats fly from the trees, the crickets as they hopped, the mice that scattered across the forest floor. Will saw everything, and it was incredibly. He wanted this to stay. The forests and their creatures and the things that lived inside of them. And that helped his decision as he sat through the night. Even if humanity was full of assholes, the crickets weren’t, the mice weren’t- innocent creatures that didn’t deserve to be scorched with the rest of the planet.

Will saw the sunrise with perfect clarity. He had never felt so.... so right as he did in that moment. When the sun was higher in the sky, he stretched out, jumping when his wings moved with him. Curious, he glanced back, moving them with his shoulders, in awe of how they moved, how they flexed.

“They are truly magnificent,” he heard Castiel say, jumping up from the rock he had been sitting on all night. Strangely, he wasn’t tired. He decided that his sleep routine was the least of his worries.

“I don’t know what to think,” Will admitted. Castiel nodded.

“I understand. My wings… they were glorious,” he said softly. Will felt what could only be described as sympathy for the angel. Ex angel? He wasn’t sure.

“Why don’t you have them anymore?” Will asked. He was past the point of decency with this guy.

“I am no longer connected to the Heavenly Host. I cannot recharge my powers, and they, as well as my wings, are nearly entirely gone. My wings are not physical in the human realm. In heaven, they are magnificent. But on Earth, they are dull, they are useless. I… in becoming human, there are two things that may happen. The wings will disappear, return to heaven with an angel’s grace, or they will become visible in the human realm. Mine are gone.”

“That’s… a lot to take in,” Will said, blowing out a breath and trying to rub the back of his neck, but being stopped by a wing. He frowned.

“They take some getting used to,” Castiel commented.

“I don’t want to get used them,” Will snapped.

“You have no choice now,” Castiel told him.

“Why’d you do it anyways? Cut me open? What would’ve happened if you didn’t?”

“If I hadn’t freed the wings, they would have removed all of the flesh from your back and shoulders. You would have lived, but it would have been excruciating for a number of days. I… No one deserves that kind of suffering. Even someone as annoying as you,” Castiel said, and Will swore he almost saw a tiny hint of a possible smile on the bastard’s face.

“Thanks, I guess,” Will replied. He turned back to the forest. “This place really is beautiful. The earth. It would be a shame to lose it.”

“Indeed it would. I fell for humanity, Will, and I am not going to give it up easily. I will fight with all I have.”

“I… I think I will too,” Will said quietly. When he turned back, he saw that Castiel had raised an eyebrow,

“Really?” he asked. “What made you change your mind?” Will shook his head.

“I’m not sure there was ever anything to change. I can’t kill anyone or anything for shit. I… I still regret… so much. So many people died because of me. I can hardly stand to think about it. I guess I was just worried that I would change without my own permissions. But that’s not how it worked out. So… I’ll fight with you.” Castiel nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced behind himself at the sleeping Winchesters behind the two of them. Will turned his gaze towards the brothers as well.

“You really love them, huh?” Will asked. Castiel bristled, but nodded curtly.

“They are my brothers in almost every sense of the word. I fell for them. They are my family.”

“But not the angels?” Will asked.

“The angels… it is complicated. There a few who I hold very dead- Anael, Balthazar, Rachel- but so many who… I can’t even speak of what they have done. Heaven rooted for Lucifer, for the end to come. I can’t side with them.” Will nodded slowly.

“So they started this shitstorm, huh?”

“Indeed. But they weren’t aware of you, that is certain.”

“They weren’t? But you knew exactly what I was.”

“No, no, they knew who you were, what you are. They just didn’t think you would live. I was sent, with the Winchesters, to kill you. My last mission from Heaven, you could say. It was my last chance to return. But you… everything changed.”

“I remember back when things were simple. I was a teacher, I had my dogs, I had Alana… now everything’s just so fucked up.”

“I know, Will. And I am truly sorry for that.” Will squinted at him.

“You really are sorry, aren’t you?”

“What are you two chattering about?” they heard behind them, Will turning to see Dean stretching and yawning, snapping his neck to the side with a loud crack.

“Nothing in particular,” Castiel told him, walking away from Will and back to the tree where they had fallen asleep. Sam stretches out too, and all eyes are on Will.

“What?” he asked.

“Just… what do you wanna do, man?” Dean asked. “I mean. Lucifer and Michael need vessels, and we’re off angel radar, you too with the scribbles on your ribs. It’s up to you. Luci’s in a shit vessel according to Sam- do we just sneak attack him?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Will asked, furrowing his brow.

“Well,” Sam said, “you’re kind of his kid. Cas thinks you have some kind of weird bond.” Will frowned, turning to Castiel, who shrugged.

“It’s possible. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s possible.”

“Well,” Will said, “Let’s start with working on that.” 


	11. Through the eye of Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Lord it's been a whole year I'm never gonna finish this fucking fic. I'm sorry, guys, I don't know what's up with this one, Christ.

“Just focus, Will. Let your wings channel the power, allow them to feel inside of you, and you will truly see, truly connect with your senses.”

“My senses?” Will asked, scrunching his nose.

“Yes. You have your human senses, but a child such as you has… others. You will be able to see what he sees, to know what he knows. He cannot do the same to you with the inscription on your ribs, but you will still be able to look into his mind. He will likely try to block you, but that’s why we practice. Now, spread your wings.”

The Winchesters had left. Castiel told them to go and find some form of food, whatever they could, while Will and Castiel practiced this channeling thing that Will was sure was complete and total bullshit.

“Channeling my ass,” Will muttered, and Castiel cuffed the side of his head. “Hey!”

“Channel, Will!” Castiel snapped. Will sighed, shutting his eyes and focusing on his wings, breathing deeply and trying to ‘feel’ them. Warmth crept over his shoulders, up his neck- his head was buzzing, tingling, everything was slowly growing fuzzy.

“What’s happening?”

“What do you feel, Will?”

“I feel… fuzzy, strange.”

“Good, keep at it, make it grow stronger.”

Will pulled from his back, shifting his shoulders and thrusting his wings UP, trying to get whatever was making him feeling tingly get stronger. He felt something thick coursing under his skin, thrumming loudly as it ventured from his wings to his head. He felt himself growing heavier and heavier, the black seeping into all of the crevices in his body, faster and faster, the buzzing growing impossibly loud. Will fell to his knees, and then forwards onto his hands, eyes squeezed shut and-

He was back in Hannibal’s house. But he… wasn’t. He wasn’t in control of his body. It shifted and moved of its own accord. Terrified, Will struggled to try and move, before he realized, with a start, that he wasn’t staring at his own hand.

He was doing that… channelling thing. But Castiel had said it wouldn’t work on the first try! Will tells himself to focus, following with Lucifer’s eyes as they sweep the room.

“My son, he won’t join us?”

“I’m afraid not,” Hannibal said, sliding into the chair across the Lucifer, the chair that Will had seen him sit in so many times. “Your son seems to have a belief that what we plan to do with this Earth is wrong, and I cannot change his mind. He has quite the strong will, and his powers have advanced much more quickly than we had anticipated.”

“Hm. The boy thinks on his own, that much is good. But the rest won’t do. Where is he?”

“I have no idea. I tried to track him down, but that angel, Castiel, has done something to block him out. I trapped him before, but his powers have exceeded even yours. He escaped the angel traps with ease.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, witch?”

“Will is essentially God, yes. You cannot defeat him.”

Will didn’t know when he and Lucifer were on their feet, but the next thing he knew he had Hannibal against the far wall, hand around his throat, locked in a death grip.

“Don’t you EVER tell me what I can and cannot do.” Hannibal’s eyes were popping, his mouth gaping open and closed, the vein on his neck standing and strange gurgling sounds rising from his throat. Will wanted to close his eyes, to look away, but he couldn’t, he wasn’t capable of it, as they weren’t his eyes, weren’t his hands. Lucifer unclenched his hand and Hannibal fell to the floor, rolling to his hands and knees, one hand bracing himself and the other on his neck, gasping and choking.

“I did not- mean to offend,” he spat. “But you are- being- a child. You must accept what you have created. I am- I am not here to sit idly and watch your destroy yourself. I am here as- your servant. But I will not remain- silent. He will kill you. Which is why you must either beg help from Hell or you must try to earn his trust.” Lucifer raised his hand once more, as if to choke Hannibal again, but instead moved it to his chin.

“You aren’t completely useless, you know that?” Hannibal shrugged, standing and brushing his hair back, his hand shaky.

“I’ve been told as much before. The demons will help you, but you must promise them things that you cannot provide and you must kill them before they realize that you have lied. They are puny and weak, but when they rise together they can kill even an archangel.” Lucifer nodded, and Will hated the feeling.

“We’ll have to…”

“WILL! WILL!”

“...Crowley…”

“WILL! WAKE UP!”

“...hate it, but…”

Someone slapped him across the face, and Will’s eyes snapped open. He took in a gulp of air before collapsing on the ground, choking and gasping, hands clutching at his throat.

“Crowley,” he spat, “some demon- named Crowley. Raising. An army.”

“I thought Crowley hated him. Holy shit, he’s raising a demon army? Dean, what are we supposed to do? There’s only four of us!”

“I’m- Jesus, I’m more powerful than him. Hannibal said so, and Lucifer knows. I- can stop him. But we need to do it- now.”

“Will, you need rest.”

“I need to kill him.”

“Will! I understand that killing Lucifer is top priority, but you’re going to go and do it right after what you’ve gone through. Channelling takes a lot of energy, and you need to have all of it to kill your father. Two days. Two days and we can plan and then move in. Do you understand?” Castiel asked. Will nodded, looking up at the three of them as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Let’s get planning.” 


	12. The day that finally came

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a short epilogue following this chapter... soon(ish). (I say after this entire mess of a fic) I... I don't really know if this is what I wanted out of it all. But I think I'm okay with how it turned out.

After two days of sitting with their thumbs up their asses while Will ‘healed’, not only was he on edge, but the Winchesters were growing restless too. Will sighed, thumping his head back against a tree, feeling the thrum of life coursing through the tree, the bird’s nest high above, the bugs that crawled and lived inside of it. This one tree held so much life and had so much purpose.

“Jesus, Cas, I’m going fucking stir crazy, when are we gonna go and kill this son of a bitch?” Dean asked, pacing back and forth across the small clearing they had been living in. Castiel sighed, looking up from the tree he was against, heavy bags under his eyes, his coats discarded a day ago and his shirt unbuttoned.

“Soon,” he rasped, “as soon as Will is ready.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Will said, standing and stretching his wings out, careful to move them past the trees and past the boys.

“No,” Castiel said, shaking his head, “you aren’t powerful enough yet.”

“Dammit Cas!” Dean yelled. “How the fuck do you even know? You’re human now for Christ’s sake!” Dean froze, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Castiel sighed, “you’re right. I’m human now. I… I can’t even feel his power. Will, do you truly feel ready?”

“I… I think so?”

“Good enough for me!” Dean exclaimed.

“Dean, listen to Cas, he knows what he’s talking about,” Sam pleaded.

“Yeah, and the devil sure as shit knows how to raise an army, Sam!”

“He can raise an army all he wants, but we only have one shot at this! Will only has one shot at this. If he’s not ready, his father could kill him, and what are we supposed to do then, just die with the rest of them?”

“First off, Will won’t die. And secondly, even if he does, we’ll figure something out. We always do. Always.” Sam shook his head.

“Stop being such a jackass for once in your life and actually think, Dean! This isn’t just about you, it’s about-”

But before Sam even knew it happened, Dean and Castiel were gone, Will with them.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

Dean was hunched over Castiel as he coughed and sputtered, Will standing behind them, head spinning as his wings twitched on his back.

“Where the fuck are we?” Dean yelled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry!” Will said, face full of regret. “I just grabbed you guys and flew, I could only think to bring you two, I- I don’t even know where Sam is!”

“You motherfucker!” Dean yelled, but Cas grabbed his wrist before Dean could charge at him, shaking his head.

“This is good, Dean,” he said, “this is what we need. What if we fail, and Lucifer gets ahold of his vessel? The three of us will be fine. We just need angel blades. I have at the back of my pants, and I know you have one in your coat pocket. We’ll be fine.” He reached his hand out, forcing Dean to look at him. “We’ll be fine.”

“Do or die I guess, huh?” Dean muttered and Castiel cracked a small smile. Dean stood, reaching out his hand to help Castiel to his feet. Will stood back from them, wings folded.

“Where are we?” Castiel asked.

“I- I don’t know, I just thought Lucifer, and my wings brought us here.” Castiel nodded.

“It happens to most angels in their early days. One day Anael thought ‘home’ and she was brought to an old oak tree. Father was not pleased.”

“But wait,” Dean interrupted, “doesn’t that mean that good ole Luci is around here somewhere?”

“Shit.”

“William. My son.”

“Double shit,” Dean muttered. Castiel reached around the back of him, angel blade slipping into his hand, Dean’s hand reached inside his coat. Will’s wings spread, keeping Castiel and Dean out of reach from his father.

“I see that Dean Winchester neglected to bring my vessel with him. What a shame. Perhaps killing you will show Sam that there is no way but yes.”

“You sick son of a bi-”

“Dean! Don’t move!” Castiel hissed, locking his hand around Dean’s wrist and holding him in place.

“Lucifer, please,” Wil begged. “Just let it go. Just let humanity go. We don’t need to die, you don’t need to face off against your brother, please. Just let it go.” Lucifer laughs. Actually laughs. And Will nearly shits himself.

“Oh my son. If only you would open your eyes. Look around you! Look at all the pain and filth and hurt! Look at how it’s all come together to form one giant mound of AWFUL. We need exterminate these humans. We must, it is our divine duty to do so, and you will not prevent me from doing this duty. Unfortunately, Michael must also die, as he will not stop until I am dead. But I can see that he doesn’t have a vessel either,” Lucifer said, leaning past Will’s wings to look at Dean, who’s eyes were burning with hate.

“Well why don’t you fuck off?” Dean yelled, and Castiel just yanked him further back.

“Lucifer, there are so many other ways, peaceful ways, to resolve so much. I’ve seen the pain that humans inflict. I’ve seen it first and foremost, but I’ve also seen the good. I’ve seen the other living creatures, like dogs and cats and birds- they all deserve to live too, and if you torch this planet, if you bring on what you want to- everything goes, everything dies. Please,” Will stepped forwards, hands outstretched in front of him. “Please consider anything else. Chuckling, Lucifer stepped forwards as well.

“My son. My only child. How you have failed me.” Before Dean or Castiel could comprehend, Lucifer had closed the distance, running Will through with what looked like the larger version of an angel blade. Eyes wide, Will’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer breathed close in Will’s ear.

“I’m not,” Will grunted back, voice shaky, blood dripping down his chin. His hand flew forward, an angel blade Dean had given him the previous day running through Lucifer’s heart, Will using whatever power he had left to channel through the blade, to go inside and destroy him, to do whatever it could to end this. Lucifer stepped back, hands on the blade that was in his chest, mouth gaping wide. A bright light started to emit from him, low at first, before it erupted around them, Dean and Castiel covering their eyes, before the hollow vessel collapsed on the ground.

Will sank to his knees.

“It’s done,” he rasped, and then looked down at the sword sticking out of his gut.

“Will!” Dean yelled, running forwards and sliding onto the ground beside him, hurrying to be in front of him. “It’s not even that bad. Hey, hey! You’ll be fine. You can magic this or whatever, and you’ll be fine, just fine, I swear! Seriously, it’ll be-” Dean let out a choking sound before blood dripped from his mouth and he collapsed sideways.

“NO!” he heard Castiel roar, angel blade forwards as he ripped himself from the ground, flying at Hannibal, face contorted with rage. Hannibal simply moved his hand to the side, flinging Castiel away, a few feet past Dean’s convulsing body. He smiled down at Will, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Well, you’ve got yourself in quite the predicament, hm?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Will gasped out. Hannibal simply chuckled. He reached forwards, grabbing the hilt of the sword, and Will screamed in agony. Hannibal wrenched his arm back, taking the sword with him and leaving a gaping hole in Will.

“Looks like your father didn’t finish the job. Good thing I’m here,” Hannibal crooned. Will felt angry. He felt so fucking FURIOUS and all he wanted was Hannibal dead, all he wanted was his dogs and his life and he wanted him DEAD and to just fucking-

Hannibal’s eyes widened as Will rose from his kneeling position, wings spreading behind him. He could feel the wound in his stomach closing and healing itself. He could feel the anger flowing off of him in waves.

“Will-”

But Will had flown himself to stand right in front of Hannibal, and he reached forwards, ripping past his ribs and into his chest, taking his heart and flinging it to the side with a scream.

“Will…” As Hannibal fell to the ground, the life leaving his eyes, Will felt no remorse.

Breathing heavily, he quickly hurried to where Dean was still gasping weakly, shuddering as Castiel pushed deep on the wound in his abdomen.

“Help him!” Castiel screamed, eyes pleading and desperate as he forced his hands further down on Dean’s stomach. “Please! You have to help him!”

“I don’t know how,” Will whispered.

“You need to focus, Will! Focus on what you want! That you want him to be fine again! You HAVE to!” Will brushed Castiel’s hands aside, looking down at Dean, gurgling sounds leaving his throat. He put one hand on the gaping hole in his gut, and the other on his cheek. Closing his eyes.

Focus. Focus on what you want. You want him to be whole. You want him to be better. He needs you to make him better. Focus.

Dean gasped, sitting up and spitting blood from his mouth, coughing and heaving.

“Thank God,” Castiel breathed, wrapping his arms around Dean in a hug. Dean pulled him close, and after a moment they let go, Castiel helping Dean to his feet.

“Thanks, Will,” Dean said with a small smile. Will smiled back.

“It’s, uh. No problem. Really.” Dean nodded. He looked out around the battlefield.

“So. What now?”

“Now? I guess we go get your brother. I’m sure he’s pretty pissed.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I bet you’re right.”

………..

Will returned Dean, Sam, and Castiel to Bobby’s house. The boys seem sad when they get there and remember that Bobby will never enter again. They said that they’re going to go and disband that demon army, and that since they don’t need the rings anymore, Castiel said that Death should return the horsemen to where they belong.

They asked Will to join them, if he wanted. He denied it. There was no way he could ever work for the FBI again, and there was no way he’d ever be… normal. But if he could learn to control his powers, maybe he could go somewhere, find another farm, get some more dogs… maybe, just maybe, he could learn to live again.


	13. Epilogue

It had been many, many years since Will had entered Baltimore. When he did, he felt strangely at home, though he had certainly made many across the world. Brown eyes searched the street until they fell upon the building he knew had been there for a very long time. Will crossed the street, careful to avoid the cars that swarmed the streets. He walked up to the pound, opening the door and stepping inside.

"Good afternoon, sir, can I help you?" the chipper girl behind the counter asked him.

"Yes," he said, looking around at all the posters that filled the room. "I'm looking to adopt a dog for the first time in a very long time."

"Wonderful! If you come back here with me, you can see what dogs we have available." Will followed her to the back room, immediately met with the sound of barking.

"Get many dogs in lately?" Will asked as she opened the door to the kennel.

"Actually, there seems to be a decline in strays lately."

"Good, good," Will said. The girl lead him down along the kennels. He stooped down to look at each dog, petting it and moving as much of himself into it as he could, trying to give it a sense of calm that it would need to survive this place. Will stopped halfway down the long row of kennels.

"See one that caught your eye?" the girl asked.

"I think so," Will responded. He crouched down to get a proper look in the kennel. Inside was a large dog with fluffy brown fur, black spots dotting occasionally. His tail didn't curl up on his back, it was straight and wagging furiously. His ears were too long, his nose too pink. Will grinned. "This guy right here. I think he and I would get along very well."

An hour later, he walked out of the pound with the dog on a leash, dancing excitedly at his feet. Will couldn't seem to stop smiling.

"Alright, alright calm down! How are we ever going to get home if you won't let me walk, Winston?"

It had been many, many years since Will entered Baltimore. He knew he made the right decision in coming back.


End file.
